


Stay With Me

by JessC27



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:31:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18840883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessC27/pseuds/JessC27
Summary: What if…? Starts at the end of episode 8x03.It starts off from Jon’s perspective, but don’t be fooled, this is a Jorah/Daenerys fic. You have been warned.It’s not gonna be a fluffy fic.I estimate about ten to twelve chapters. Was meant to be two chapters, but it seems I can’t keep stories short.





	1. After the Battle

**Author's Note:**

> I was sure Jorah wouldn’t make it through Season 8. I actually liked how it was done on the show. It was a fitting send-off. I expected worse. But I couldn’t quite get over the uselessness of the armor (at least for some people). And when they showed the armor in 8x04, it looked like it only had some burn marks on it. So this fic is on whoever forgot to prepare the armor properly in episode 8x04.

When the Night King had disintegrated and the dead had finally fallen, Jon Snow looked around him. Some figures were still standing. They were hard to make out in the dark. But the fact that they were still standing meant it had to be the living. Was it really over? What exactly had happened? Someone had killed the Night King. But who? Suddenly, he felt weary and tired. His hands and arms hurt from fighting. But there was no time to rest yet.

He started walking. He found Bran in the Godswood with Arya. And Theon’s dead body. Arya had killed the Night King. She looked rather shocked instead of happy or relieved. Jon understood. The fight had taken the last out of them, no matter the outcome. Sansa had also made her way to the Godswood and embraced Jon and Arya and then Bran. They stood like that for a moment without saying anything, trying to comprehend that it was really over.

But where were Daenerys and Drogon? “I have to find Daenerys,” Jon said and left them.

In the courtyard, Jon ran into Tyrion. “Have you seen Daenerys?”

“She’s with Ser Jorah.”

Jon sighed relieved. “Good.”

“No, not good,” Tyrion replied somberly.

Jon looked at him questioningly.

“We found them on the battlefield. Drogon wouldn’t let anyone come close. We didn’t even know if either of them was alive. Until we heard her crying.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yes.”

“And Ser Jorah?”

“He’s hurt badly. They brought him to his quarters. I am looking for Sam.” There had been a lot of blood. And since wights didn’t bleed it had to be Jorah’s own blood.

Jon pointed in the direction where he had last seen Sam and then hurried inside.

When Jon entered Jorah’s quarters, the first thing he saw was the discarded armor lying on the floor. It had served him well. It was covered with countless marks, but nothing had actually penetrated the armor. The next thing he saw was Daenerys washing the blood off Jorah with the help of Missandei. Maester Wolkan was inspecting his injuries. Jorah had several wounds at his side, on his hip and on his arms. His face was covered in blood. He was unconscious, but still breathing.

Jon gently placed a hand on Daenerys’ shoulder. “Are you okay?” Her face had blood on it, so had her coat.

She shrugged off his hand. “I’m fine.” Daenerys tried to clean the cloth in the bowl of water, but the water was already as red as the blood itself. She wrung out the cloth anyway and gently started cleaning his face.

Jorah opened his eyes. Her eyes were the first thing he saw.

Daenerys stopped what she was doing, momentarily frozen in place. Then, very gently, she stroked his face. “Stay with me,” she whispered.

He moved his lips but couldn’t get any words out. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn’t even make out where he was hurt and where not. He tasted blood.

“Don’t try to speak. Save your strength.”

Maester Wolkan handed her some milk of the poppy. “Here, give him this. It will ease the pain.”

When she reached for the vial, she left his field of vision and his hand wrapped around her wrist in an almost painful grip. “I’m not going anywhere. Drink this. You don’t need to be in pain. I’ll stay here, I promise.”

With her help Jorah managed to take a few sips.

“All of it,” Maester Wolkan instructed.

“Please, Jorah, drink. I won’t leave. I promise.” Daenerys stayed close to his face, not breaking eye contact until unconsciousness claimed him again.

“Let Maester Wolkan and Sam take care of him,” Jon said and gently pulled Daenerys away.

They stepped back and Daenerys leaned against the wall. She hadn’t even noticed Sam and Tyrion entering the room.

Jon gently grabbed her shoulders and looked her over. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’ve told you. I’m fine,” she said.

“You don’t look fine. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He tried to lead her away but she didn’t move.

“I’m staying here. I promised him.”

“He’s asleep.”

“I promised him!” Daenerys said again, this time with anger in her voice.

“You need to get some rest too. We’ve all been fighting throughout the night.”

“I will not leave him!” Like he hadn’t left her. And yet, he still might. She went back over to the foot of Jorah’s bed, watching Sam and Maester Wolkan work on his wounds.

Grey Worm came in. He first went over to Missandei and hugged her fiercely. Then he looked at Jorah and finally at Daenerys. “Will he live?”

Daenerys looked questioningly at Sam.

“I… I can’t say,” Sam said, trying to avoid her eyes.

“He’s strong,” Tyrion said softly.

Daenerys, Missandei, Grey Worm and Tyrion stood around Jorah’s bed in silence. Jon observed them for a while but then quietly left the room.


	2. Hope and Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't stopped writing my other story. Just taking a short "holiday" to write this one. And it's my way of processing Season 8.  
> Thanks for the reviews!! It's always appreciated.

When Jon came back to look in on Jorah and Daenerys a while later, Grey Worm had left to check on the Unsullied and help gather the dead. Daenerys had discarded her bloody coat and was instead wrapped in a fur. Missandei was sitting with her, holding her hand.

"How is he?" Jon asked.

When Daenerys didn't answer, Missandei said, "There's no change."

"Could you please leave us alone for a moment?" Jon asked.

Missandei looked at Daenerys, who nodded.

"I know you care for him," Jon said, sitting down on Missandei's chair. "But you haven't left his side since-"

"He saved my life."

"I know."

Looking at him for the first time since he had entered, Daenerys asked, "Do you?" How could he ever understand? "I wouldn't be sitting here if it wasn't for him."

"I know," Jon said gently, trying to take her hand, but Daenerys pulled it away. "You act as if it was my fault that he got wounded."

"We came here to help you fight the White Walkers."

Jon looked at her in disbelief. "They were a threat to all of us," he reminded her.

Daenerys sighed. "I'm sorry. I can't think at the moment. You better leave. Before I say something I shouldn't."

"You are tired. You need to sleep."

"No, I need him to wake up."

Jon shook his head in frustration but remained quiet. It was no use arguing with her like that. He hoped Jorah would make it. And he hoped there would be a change for the better soon. They had important things to discuss. But at the moment Jon knew it would only end in an argument.

* * *

Daenerys had sent Missandei away to get some sleep. She had refused to leave at first, but eventually Grey Worm had managed to convince Missandei to leave with him.

Daenerys had put her head down on Jorah's bed, dozing off from time to time while holding his hand. The moment he moved his hand, she was awake instantly. "Jorah?"

He just looked at her for a moment before he managed to speak. "You look… tired."

Daenerys laughed and almost cried at the same time. It was so like him to only worry about her and not about himself. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to encourage him, give him strength, but she couldn't say one word. Therefore, she simply stroked his cheek.

"Are you alright?" Jorah asked.

Daenerys managed to force a small smile on her face. Still having trouble with words she just nodded. Jorah seemed to relax at that and closed his eyes again. "Sleep. Rest. But come back to me," she whispered.

Eventually, Daenerys fell asleep at Jorah's bedside. When Jon looked in on them again, he lifted her from the chair and laid her on the bed next to Jorah, knowing she would have his head if he carried her to her own room. He covered her with some furs, sighed and then left to get some sleep himself.

* * *

"We are almost ready," Jon said.

Daenerys didn't reply or move.

"You have to be there when we burn the dead," Jon said, trying to be patient and understanding with her.

"You have to," Tyrion implored.

Daenerys just nodded.

"You have to get ready," Jon said. She was still wearing the clothes from the day before.

"I will stay with him, if you want me to," Missandei offered. She knew she wouldn't be missed out there anyway.

Daenerys nodded. "I don't want him to be alone."

"He won't be," Missandei assured her.

Daenerys got up from her chair and walked towards the door. Then she stopped and turned around again. Addressing Missandei, she said in Valyrian, "Come and get me if he needs me." She didn't want Jon to hear. He wouldn't approve. But the dead were already dead. Jorah wasn't.

Missandei nodded.

* * *

Once the ceremony for the dead was over Daenerys left as soon as was acceptable.

Jon followed her. When they were out of sight, he grabbed her arm and stopped her. "I know you care about him, but at the moment you are not behaving like a Queen. Right now you are behaving very selfishly."

She tore loose from his grip. "How dare you? You know nothing about him."

"I know there is no one more loyal to you than him. I spent a considerable amount of time with him beyond the Wall and on the way there. And, if you'd ask me, I would say he is in love with you."

Daenerys just stared at him, not sure what he wanted her to say.

"You are not denying it then?"

"No."

"Do you love him?"

"I need him."

"You didn't answer my question."

"In my own way." She wasn't sure anymore what she felt for Jorah. She just knew she needed him to survive.

"Are you sure that's all it is? You have spent every single moment at his side. You haven't asked me once how I am since we defeated the Night King. You haven't once talked to Arya and congratulated her that she saved us all."

"I am thankful."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"He could die," she said irritably. "All I am is in large parts because of him. He has guided me, protected me, loved-" she stopped short. She hadn't meant to say that. It had just come out. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. She turned and started to walk away, back to Jorah. She had stayed away too long already.

Jon grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Will you come to dinner?" he asked, fearing he already knew the answer. She didn't seem inclined to take any advice from him at the moment and he knew he couldn't force her. Maybe Tyrion would have more luck.

"Yes."

Jon looked at her with surprise.

"I will be there." Daenerys knew she had to make an appearance. She looked at her wrist, waiting for Jon to let go. The moment he finally did she turned and walked away.

* * *

By the time Daenerys arrived back in Jorah's room, his sleep had become fitful. She sat down on the bed and motioned for Missandei to hand her the vial with milk of the poppy, which Maester Wolkan had left for him. Daenerys leaned over him. "Jorah, wake up." She stroked his face. "Open your eyes." She could see that he was fighting his way to consciousness. When he finally opened his eyes, his face was distorted by pain. "Drink this. It will ease the pain."

"Khaleesi."

"Yes, I'm here. Drink." Daenerys lifted his head and pressed the vial to his lips. When he had drunk she gently placed his head back down on the pillow. "Fight, please fight. Stay with me." Stroking his hair, she tried to calm him until the milk of the poppy would take effect. Daenerys was so close to his face that she didn't see him lifting his arm. It caught her completely by surprise when he touched her cheek. She leaned into his hand. But only a moment later his strength left him and he closed his eyes again.

Daenerys lowered her head to his ear. "You said you wanted to see me sit on the Iron Throne. Do you remember? I need you more than ever. Please, Jorah, I am asking you to fight. I know I have asked so much of you already, but please, don't leave me." She rested her forehead on his shoulder, but only for a moment, afraid to cause him additional pain.

"You should try to get some sleep," Missandei said concerned. "You need to be rested when the Northerners decide if they will go south with you or not."

"I know. But I am too nervous to sleep," she admitted. In her head Daenerys was trying to go over what she would say, but couldn't really concentrate.

"Let me do your hair then," Missandei suggested. It usually had a calming effect on her.

Daenerys just nodded.

"What exactly happened out there?" Missandei asked almost in a whisper.

It took a long time until Daenerys answered. "It was… horrible… incomprehensible. The wights swarmed Drogon, covering his whole body. He flew off, trying to get rid of them. I thought I would die. But then Jorah came out of nowhere and killed them. It didn't stop. He didn't stop. And then suddenly it was all over. Just like that. And then Jorah..." She looked over towards him, making sure he was still breathing.

"He will make it. I am sure of it," Missandei said, trying to sound more convincing than she actually felt.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful, but if Arya had killed the Night King a bit earlier…"

"Maybe you should see it the other way around. A moment later and you both might-"

Daenerys raised her hand to stop Missandei from finishing the sentence. "You are right. I should be grateful. As long as he survives."

Missandei quietly continued to braid her hair. After a while Daenerys fell asleep after all, but only to be woken a short time later by Tyrion, who informed them that the meeting was about to start.

* * *

The meeting had been going on for a while. They were arguing back and forth about how to proceed.

Daenerys was struggling to keep her thoughts on the task at hand. She was tired and her thoughts were with Jorah and her armies. The numbers of their armies' losses were devastating. She had seen the fires go out when her Dothraki had charged at the wights, but she had hoped… she didn't know what she had hoped for. A miracle maybe. Could she ask them to keep fighting? Would they stand a chance? Tyrion didn't want her to use her dragons, because then everybody would associate her with her father. But was it fair to sacrifice her armies in order to avoid being compared with her father? Should she wait until the wounded had recovered? Daenerys feared she wouldn't be able to rally the Northern armies around her again. And walking towards King's Landing without the Northern armies would indeed look like a foreign invasion. She needed at least some of Westeros on her side.

"She doesn't care about the North," Sansa said. "She will never give us our independence, even though we have earned it more than any of the other Kingdoms."

"How can you say she doesn't care about the North?" Jorah asked from the entrance.


	3. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few days ago I wrote the ending to this story. So from now on it's "only" filling in some gaps, fine-tuning and editing, the latter two being the tedious and more time-consuming parts.
> 
> The upcoming Chapter 4 (titled "The End") will be my take on 8x05.
> 
> And again, many thanks for the reviews! Muchas gracias. I take them in whatever language they come. ;-) They really brought a smile to my face.

Daenerys gasped when she saw Jorah. He looked pale and was obviously in pain. He was limping and holding his side. Missandei was supporting him as best as she could.

Grey worm quickly came to their aid. Everybody else made room so that Jorah could sit down.

Jorah was exhausted from the short walk. At one point he had feared he would pass out. He was glad to be sitting down. He could feel the blood seeping through the bandage at his side. He pulled away his hand and it was indeed bloody.

Daenerys went to Jorah's side, bending down to inspect the wound. "You stubborn fool. Why did you get up?"

"To serve and protect you, to die for you if necessary."

"By reopening your wounds and bleeding to death at my feet for nothing?"

Jorah searched for her eyes, waiting until hers met his and then said in a low voice, "You said you needed me more than ever." Addressing the whole room, he went on, "I won't lie in bed while they criticize you when you just saved their lives a few days ago." He looked at Jon. "I remember the oath I swore."

"So do I," replied Jon.

"Let's hear what Lord Mormont has to say," someone said.

Jorah's eyes became wide. Nobody had called him Lord Mormont for many, many years. He looked at Daenerys with a pained expression that had nothing to do with his wounds.

"I'm so sorry," she said in a whisper, wishing she would have been able to tell him about Lyanna's death in private.

If Jorah hadn't been sitting down, this piece of information would have brought him to the floor. He closed his eyes, trying to picture the last time he had seen Lyanna. Despite her age and size she had seemed invincible. He had been convinced that she would survive by pure will alone. Why? Why her? Jorah felt a small hand rest on his shoulder. He knew it was Daenerys, trying to comfort him. He reached for her hand, squeezing it, trying to convey how much the gesture meant to him. He let go of her hand and opened his eyes. There was no time now to mourn Lyanna.

"There wouldn't be a North without Daenerys," Jorah said. "And Cersei will crush the North for having proclaimed their own king. Cersei was rather willing to risk the destruction of all of Westeros than to risk losing her throne."

"He is right," Jon said. "We would have never been able to defeat the Night King without Daenerys' help. I bent the knee and I won't go back on my word."

"You made that decision because you thought it was the best for us. I get that," Sansa said. "But sending our weakened forces south now is not the best for us."

"Is nobody's word worth anything anymore?" Jon asked. "Is it just lying and trying to get the best out of a deal and then turn our back on everybody else? Have we become like Cersei already? Cersei will never stop until House Stark is defeated."

"Cersei hired the Golden Company," Sansa countered. "Even if we hadn't lost so many men against the wights, they are better trained and better equipped. We don't stand a chance."

"I have two dragons," Daenerys reminded them. "You won't have to sacrifice your men. I proved that I am willing to fight beside them on Drogon. And I will do so again against the Golden Company and Cersei's own army."

Sansa locked eyes with Daenerys. Sansa's main goal was to protect the North. But she also wanted Cersei gone. She wanted her punished for her father's death, for her mother's death, for her brother's death and for all the cruelties she herself had endured in King's Landing. The Lannisters had supported the Boltons in their seizing of Winterfell, which had led to Sansa's abuse by Ramsey and Rickon's death. Cersei would never rest until the Starks were destroyed. Cersei had to be stopped or Sansa and her family would never be safe. And with Daenerys and her dragons on their side they had very good chances of eliminating Cersei once and for all. The Dragon Queen was a very powerful ally. And they couldn't afford to call two queens their enemy. "If we don't stop Cersei, the Seven Kingdoms will suffer," Sansa finally said. "And the North will suffer the most."

Jon sighed relieved and gave Sansa a thankful look.

Tyrion didn't want to destroy the progress they had just made. And he had voiced his concern over using Daenerys' dragons several times already, but she seemed determined to use them. "Maybe," Tyrion added somewhat hesitantly, "we could discuss battle tactics some more on the way to King's Landing?"

* * *

"Thank you for supporting me," Daenerys said to Jon when the others had left. She knew she had ignored him since the battle and had thus risked losing his loyalty.

"It won't be easy. But it is the right thing to do. As long as Cersei is alive, she will be a threat to all the people I love. She has never trusted the Starks and she won't rest until we are no threat to her anymore."

Daenerys came closer, but Jon retreated backwards when she tried to touch him. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Jon asked her incredulously. "The last few days you've hidden in Jorah's room, hardly talking to me at all, pushing me away. And suddenly – now that you have what you want – it's all forgotten?"

"When you found out about your parents you didn't talk to me either. You just ran away from me."

"I found out that my whole life has been a lie," Jon said, almost yelling at her.

"And I almost lost my best friend."

Jon waited for her to say more, but she didn't. "Do you have nothing else to say to me?"

"Marry me and we can share the Iron Throne. It would solve all our problems."

"I can't," Jon said. "You are my aunt." He had to keep repeating it to himself. He still couldn't believe it. And he felt he needed to remind himself as often as possible for fear that he might forget in a moment of weakness.

Again, Daenerys took a step closer towards him. "We are Targaryen."

And again, Jon took a step backwards. "It's forbidden in Westeros."

Daenerys stayed where she was. "To prevent madness, yes. I can't have children, Jon. It's not an issue."

Jon looked at her speechless.

"Unless you want children."

"I haven't even given that a thought. And that's not what this is about."

"We don't have to tell anyone who you really are. Nobody would need to know. Nobody would think anything of it."

"I would know."

Daenerys sat down and sighed. "What is it that you want then?"

"I don't want the Iron Throne."

"And you don't want me."

"I love you," Jon insisted, "even though I shouldn't."

"What do you want, Jon?"

"I… I don't know." He wished he had never found out about his true heritage. It was such a burden. "I want to tell my sisters." He wanted to tell someone who had no ulterior motives.

That brought Daenerys to her feet again "What?" Had she heard correctly? "You say you don't want the Iron Throne. Why would you want to tell anyone that you are the rightful heir?"

"This has nothing to do with the damn throne. It's about my family."

"If you tell them, they will want you on the Iron Throne."

"They'll respect my wishes."

Daenerys raised her eyebrows. "If Sansa finds out that you are Rhaegar's son, she will do anything in her power to make sure I don't sit on the Iron Throne."

"All you care about is the damn throne."

"What would you have me do? Abandon the Iron Throne and stay here with you?"

Jon looked at the floor.

Daenerys paced around the room, at wits' end. "You don't want the Iron Throne. But you want to tell your family about your true heritage. You say you love me. But you don't want to marry me. You can't even stand to be with me." She stopped pacing and looked at Jon. "How is that going to work?"

"I don't know." He needed time to think.

"Could you please figure out what you want before you make any decisions?"

"Why can't you understand how difficult this is for me?" Jon asked, frustration written all over his face.

"I'm trying. I've told you what I would do. Please, Jon, don't make any hasty decisions." Daenerys decided to give him some space to think everything through and turned to leave. "Come and find me when you have made up your mind."

"Sure, everybody knows where to find you these days," Jon said with more spite than he had intended.

Daenerys stopped short and turned around again. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. "I sat watch at your bedside after you almost died north of the Wall."

"I'm sorry." Jon walked towards her and took her hand. "I know Jorah has been with you from the beginning. I am more than grateful that he was there to protect you." He pulled her into his arms. "He'll be fine."

Daenerys relaxed into his embrace for a moment. Then she raised her head and tried to kiss him. Jon took her face between his hands and placed a kiss on her forehead instead. She looked at him with sadness and let go of him.

"I do love you," Jon said with a pained expression.

"So you keep saying. But you don't act like it."

* * *

After her fight with Jon, Daenerys stopped by Jorah's room.

Jorah was back in bed. Sam was replacing the bloody bandages with fresh ones. Jorah groaned when Sam tightened the strip of cloth around his torso. But when he saw Daenerys he managed a small smile, trying to reassure her.

Looking at Jorah with unconcealed disapproval, she asked Sam, "Will he live?"

"Despite his best efforts to the contrary," Sam said.

"If I die it's because I can't breathe," Jorah said to Sam.

"If greyscale and White Walkers can't kill you, a lack of breathing is probably not going to do it either," Sam replied. He tied the bandages together and stood up. "Please do us all a favor and stay in bed for the next few days. I don't know how there's any blood left in you at all. And I don't recommend trying to find out how much is left."

Daenerys stepped closer, keeping her eyes fixed on Jorah. "He will stay in bed. Or I will send him back to Meereen, where he can serve under Daario."

Sam looked at her confused, then shrugged his shoulders and left.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, sitting down on his bed.

"Better."

Daenerys regarded him doubtfully, carefully pulling up the furs over his bandaged body. "I should have a stern word with Missandei for helping you with your folly."

"I didn't give her much of a choice," Jorah said with a smirk.

She smiled at him, glad that he seemed to be on the mend. She had been so afraid to lose him. Absentmindedly she played with the fur, running her fingers over the same spot again and again.

"What's wrong?"

Daenerys stopped and gripped the fur tightly. "I had an argument with Jon."

"About?"

"Lots of things."

"Tell me."

"I don't want to talk." She was so tired. Tired of fighting with Jon, tired of standing up to Sansa, tired of arguing with Tyrion about her dragons. Daenerys made herself more comfortable on his bed, lying down on her side, pulling her legs up against her body. She picked a new spot on the fur and started running her fingers over it again.

Jorah had a feeling of déjà vu. "Did you… when I was… did you sleep here?" He thought he had dreamed that.

Daenerys didn't look at him. Her eyes were still focused on the fur. "Yes."

Jorah regarded her with worry. Her thoughts seemed to be somewhere else. "What was your argument with Jon about?"

"It was more than an argument."

"Talk to me," he prodded.

She sighed and turned her head so that she would be able to see Jorah's reaction. She knew beyond a doubt that he would keep the secret. "Jon is Rhaegar's son. Jon is a Targaryen."

"What?" Jorah tried to move, but winced in pain.

Daenerys quickly put her hand on his chest to keep him down. "Stay still."

He took a couple of deep breaths, or at least as much as was possible with the restricting bandage around his chest, until the pain started to lessen. "How is that possible?" Then it dawned on him. "Lyanna Stark. And Ned Stark took him in."

"Yes. But there is more. My brother and Lyanna were married. After his marriage with Elia Martell was annulled."

Jorah let that sink in for a moment before he asked, "How long have you known?"

"He told me just before the battle started."

"And Jon?"

"Some time after we came to Winterfell. He's been avoiding me ever since."

"I'm sorry. It must have been a shock to him."

"Yes."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. It depends on Jon. He doesn't want to marry me. He doesn't want the Iron Throne. But he wants to tell his sisters."

"And you fear they won't keep it secret because they want Jon on the throne."

"Sansa hates me and Arya adores Jon. Family is everything to them."

"It seems they are your family too now."

Daenerys hadn't even thought about that. "Tell that to Sansa. And Jon wishes I wasn't part of the family, or rather that he wasn't part of mine."

"Give him time."

"I don't think he will change his mind."

They just lay there for quite some time, neither saying a word, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

When Daenerys looked at Jorah his eyes were focused on the ceiling. Were there tears in his eyes?

Jorah finally broke the silence. "How did my cousin die?"

"I'm not quite sure. But they say she took out a giant." Since Daenerys had hardly left this room lately, she hadn't heard much of what had happened on the battlefield or inside Winterfell. "I'm so sorry, Jorah."

"Lyanna was so young and so courageous."

"She was," Daenerys agreed.

"She didn't deserve to die. It should have been me."

"Don't say something like that," Daenerys whispered close to tears. "I know it's selfish. But don't ever say something like that again. I don't know what I would do without you."

Jorah took her hand, which was still lying on his chest. "I am not going anywhere."

"I haven't even thanked you for saving my life."

"There's no need. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if something had happened to you out there."

Again, they were silent.

"Do you still love me?" Daenerys asked suddenly.

Jorah turned his head as much as possible, frustrated that he couldn't turn onto his side to look at her properly. Lying on his back caused the least amount of pain and any movement hurt terribly. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Please, just tell me."

"I told you outside Vaes Dothrak. Always. I meant it."

Daenerys exhaled audibly and closed her eyes.

Jorah gently brushed his thumb over her fingers. After a while, he asked again, "Why would you ask me that?" But she didn't answer. He realized that she had fallen asleep. She must have been utterly exhausted. How much had she slept the last few days? Probably not much between finding out about Jon's true heritage, the battle and spending most of her time here at his bedside. Jorah watched her with concern. Eventually he fell asleep too, not letting go of her hand.

That's how Jon found them. Yet again the woman he loved was sleeping next to someone else. Admittedly, Jon couldn't even bring himself to kiss her properly. As quietly as he could he went over to the bed and covered Daenerys with some furs.

* * *

They were about to leave for King's Landing. Daenerys entered Jorah's room. There was no question that Jorah had to stay behind in Winterfell. Daenerys was actually relieved that he couldn't come with them. She had come too close to losing him. She didn't want him anywhere near the fighting this time.

Jorah was glad to see her look like her normal self again, like a queen. "I will follow as soon as I can," he said.

"You will do no such thing. You will stay here until you have completely healed. I am ordering you."

"My place is by your side."

"You have done your duty. You saved my life."

"You said you wanted me by your side when you take the Seven Kingdoms."

"I need you alive. I need to know you are alright. I don't need your sword. I need your guidance and your counsel. Nobody will be able to replace you as my advisor. Never."

"Then let me advise you now."

Daenerys nodded.

"Don't become impatient. You've come so far. You are so close. Don't become impatient now. Don't let yourself get provoked by Cersei. She seems to be very good at it. You saw how she manipulated Jon in the Dragon Pit."

"I am not Jon."

"I know. But don't underestimate her. Cersei didn't get two of her bastard children and then herself on the Iron Throne by being stupid."

"Are you done with your lecture?"

"No." He tried to sit up, but Daenerys quickly went to his side and gently pushed him back down on the bed. Jorah grabbed her hand, fiercely. "Remember what makes you better than her."

"My dragons."

"No."

She looked at him confused.

"You have a gentle heart. Remember that." He released her hand.

After all these years he still believed in her unconditionally. Daenerys leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. When she got up, Jorah grabbed her hand again.

"Please be careful."

She nodded and then left quickly, not looking back once.

Jorah hated that he couldn't go with her. Why did he have a feeling as if she was walking right into a fire again?


	4. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly set during 8x05. I am tweaking canon only a little here and there, keeping with many of the main events, even though a lot of it didn’t make sense to me. More on that below the chapter.
> 
> Thanks for the reviews!

_King's Landing_

"Any last words?" Cersei asked Missandei.

Missandei knew there was no way out of this for her. She wouldn't live to see another day. Even if Daenerys jumped on Drogon, she would be dead before Drogon would make it off the ground. She looked out towards where Daenerys and Grey Worm were standing. The thing she regretted most was that Grey Worm would have to watch her die like this. Missandei looked at the chains around her wrists. Would she really die in chains, as a slave, powerless, like she had spent most of her life? Losing her head like a criminal? No. If her life was to end here and now she would not let anyone else decide over her death. Missandei would give no one that satisfaction. She would determine when and how. So she jumped. "Dracarys!"

* * *

_Dragonstone_

After Daenerys had Varys killed by dragon fire, Jon left Dragonstone without telling anyone. He was a little bit nervous. Rhaegal was dead so he would have to ride on Drogon. He found the dragon lying on the stones near the beach, curled into a ball.

"Wake up, Drogon. I need your help. I need you to fly me to Winterfell." He had no idea if the dragon even understood the common tongue. Jon realized he was only talking to him to calm his own nerves.

Drogon uncurled and regarded Jon curiously.

"I need to help Daenerys. We need to help her."

* * *

_Winterfell_

Jon stormed into Sansa's room. "Why did you do it?" he yelled at her.

"Jon? What are you doing here? I thought you-"

"Why did you tell Tyrion?"

"What are you talking-"

"You told Tyrion about my real father and Tyrion told Varys."

Sansa sighed, her mind still slightly muddled from sleep. "Yes, I did."

"Varys is dead."

"What?"

"Daenerys executed him."

"She what?" Sansa looked at Jon with horror. "How could you want somebody like that on the Iron Throne?"

"Varys wanted me to take the throne. I declined. He committed treason, Sansa. We kill people who commit treason. People are killed for less. What did you think would happen when you told Tyrion?"

"That he would tell Varys," Sansa admitted.

"And then?"

She stayed silent.

"And then what? Did you think any further than that?"

"You should rule."

"I don't want to rule. It's a bloody business. You of all people should know that."

"Which is why someone like you should sit on the Iron Throne."

"The last people sitting on that throne met with a very brutal end."

"Because they were bad people," Sansa said.

"Robert wasn't a bad person. Tommen wasn't a bad person."

"Robert was weak and Tommen would have done what Cersei or Margaery wanted him to do."

"Did you tell anyone else besides Tyrion?"

"No, I didn't."

"You can't tell anybody else. Promise me you will tell no one else, Sansa. Promise me."

"Fine."

"I need to get back to Dragonstone," Jon said and turned to leave.

"You just came all this way to tell me that?"

"No. I also came here to take Ser Jorah back with me. How is he?"

"He left together with Jamie Lannister when they heard about Rhaegal and Missandei."

"Damn." He walked towards the door.

"Jon!"

"I don't have time for this."

"Jon, I only did what I thought-"

He turned around. "You swore to me, Sansa. You swore!" He looked at her long and hard. "I know you despise Cersei, but maybe you have learned more from her and Littlefinger than you want to admit."

"I am just doing what is best for our family."

"That sounds like something Cersei might say."

Sansa looked at him appalled. "I just want to protect you, Arya and Bran."

"Why keep it secret from us if it was meant to be in our best interest?"

"Because you wouldn't have approved."

"Exactly. I asked you not to tell anyone and you did it anyway. How is that supposed to help me? Your actions caught me completely off guard. Daenerys questioned my loyalty. She already questioned your loyalty before this because you couldn't help but make her feel unwelcome in Winterfell. That's not particularly clever."

"You are blind to who she really is because you love her."

"And what is your judgement based on? Why do you hate her so much?"

"She's a Targaryen."

"So am I," Jon said exasperatedly.

"But you are also a Stark."

"So? There is no guarantee that I won't turn mad later on, like my grandfather did."

"You wouldn't. I know you, Jon."

"Do you? I don't think you do. I killed countless of people."

"Because they deserved it."

"Did they? And what did Daenerys do differently that makes you mistrust her so much?"

"She burned Sam's father and brother alive."

"Yes, she did. They refused to bend the knee. Daenerys gave them a choice. If Jamie Lannister and the Tarlys had won that battle, do you think Cersei would have given Daenerys and Tyrion that same choice? No, Cersei would have killed both of them right away."

Sansa kept quiet.

"You had Littlefinger killed, after he saved all our lives."

"He killed aunt Lysa. He had a hand in getting our father killed."

"Yes, he did. But it was the Lannisters who killed father. And without Littlefinger neither you nor I would be alive and Winterfell would still be in the hands of Ramsey Bolton."

"Are you saying I did wrong in having him executed?"

"No. All I am saying is you shouldn't hold Daenerys to higher standards than we hold ourselves. We killed thousands taking back Winterfell."

"We were taking back our home," Sansa protested.

"That's what Daenerys is trying to do."

"She left Westeros as a baby. Westeros isn't her home."

"It's the only home she knows. Everybody needs a home. And it's not like you offered to let her make a home here at Winterfell."

"Yes, fine, we all have our faults. But you are the most honest and honorable person I know."

"I am just as fallible as everybody else."

"She has dragons, Jon. If she turns mad, she has the power to kill thousands."

"So you mistrust her because she has dragons?"

"No one would stand a chance against her. No one should have so much power."

"Is it better to have thousands die fighting against each other with swords?"

"Maybe."

Jon shook his head in frustration. "I have to leave. Let's hope that there aren't any more repercussions to what you did. Promise me you won't pursue this. I don't want the Iron Throne. I don't want the Seven Kingdoms. Does it not matter to you at all what I want?"

Sansa stayed quiet.

"Promise me, Sansa. It ends here."

"I promise."

Jon looked at her doubtfully. She had promised before and broken that promise. "Telling anyone that there is a second heir would most likely plunge the Seven Kingdoms into another terrible war. People rallying behind Daenerys and people rallying behind me. With neither Daenerys nor me wanting any of this. Haven't we seen enough death?"

"Jon-"

"If you make it public, I will abdicate in favor of Daenerys, in front of all of King's Landing. I will proclaim her Queen of Westeros. I will do it, Sansa. Your promise might be worth nothing, but mine is. I promise you, I will do anything in my power to put Daenerys on the throne."

Sansa watched him in disbelief. He was really serious.

"No, you know what, come with me," Jon said. He grabbed her robe and threw it at her. "Put it on."

"Jon, what-"

"Put it on, Sansa!"

She did as she was told and then Jon grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the room. Sansa had no idea where they were going.

* * *

"Sam, wake up!"

"Jon? What's wrong? What are you doing here?" Sam asked, sitting up in bed.

"Where's the book?"

"What book?"

"The book."

"Ah, that book. I keep it under the mattress." Sam got up and pulled it out. He then handed it to Jon.

Jon held the book up to Sansa. "This is the only proof that I am the rightful heir, that my mother actually married Rhaegar and that my father's marriage to Elia Martell was annulled." Jon threw the book into the fire. "And now I am just Rhaegar's bastard son."

Sansa and Sam looked on in horror as the fire started to eat up the paper.

Jon smiled for the first time in ages. He watched the flames turn the paper into ash. He felt so relieved. He should have thought of this a long time ago.

* * *

_Dragonstone_

"I will avenge her death. I promise you," Daenerys said to Grey Worm.

What would Jorah tell her now? _Don't get impatient. Don't get manipulated. Don't underestimate her._ It was always don't do this, don't do that with Jorah and Tyrion. _Don't burn the city. Don't use your dragons. Don't attack yet._ But suddenly another voice made itself heard in her head. _I ignored them. You're a dragon. Be a dragon._

"Enough with the clever scheming," Daenerys said. "We will end this now. I will end this."

"What are you planning to do?" Tyrion asked alarmed.

"I will burn the Red Keep. At night. With Cersei in it." Cersei didn't play fair, why should she? And she couldn't risk losing Drogon as well. "And in the morning, my armies will take the city. With Cersei gone the Golden Company will have nothing to protect anymore."

"Don't use your dragon," Tyrion pleaded. "It's too much a reminder of your father."

"Drogon is the most effective weapon I have. And I don't want to lose any more of my Unsullied or Dothraki. Cersei is forcing my hand. I gave Cersei the chance to surrender like you wanted me to."

"Continue the siege."

"Cersei will never surrender. She won't care. She will just wait it out."

"The people will rise up."

"Before or after they starve to death? With what weapons? Against the Lannister army and the Golden Company? They don't stand a chance." She looked at Grey Worm, who nodded, thinking the same thing. This wasn't Yunkai.

Tyrion had no more reply to that.

"I should have done this a long time ago," Daenerys said.

* * *

Jorah and Jamie arrived at King's Landing after everything was already over. When they came closer they saw that the Red Keep was no more, smoke and dust were still rising from where it once stood.

It was the second time Jamie came home and found a distinctive landmark turned into rubble. "The Sept is gone, blown up by one queen. And now the Red Keep has been burnt to the ground by another."

Jorah sighed in relief when he saw that the Unsullied were guarding the gates. They all knew Jorah well, so they had no trouble entering the city. The Unsullied informed him that Daenerys had gone back to Dragonstone. Therefore, Jorah didn't stay long but continued on. Jamie stayed in King's Landing, hoping beyond hope that he would find his sister, even if it was just her dead body.

What neither of them knew – what _no one_ knew – was that Cersei was indeed lying dead deep beneath the rubble. But she hadn't died from the Keep crashing down on her. She had died from a slit throat. Slit by Arya only a few hours before the Red Keep had fallen in on itself.

Arya had snuck into the city days ago, carefully working her way deeper and deeper into the Keep, closer and closer to Cersei, patiently observing where and when to kill her. And when Arya had been sure she could go through with her plan without being discovered, she had killed Cersei as soon as she had gone to bed. Her mission completed, Arya had left just as quietly as she had come.

 

* * *

* * *

_**Notes:** _

_Here are some thoughts on Season 8 (rather long, feel free to skip) and why I chose to write this chapter as I did._

_If Daenerys turned mad, why didn’t she attack right after Missandei’s death? After seeing Missandei getting killed in front of her eyes, with Cersei in sight and Drogon nearby, Daenerys has the restraint to go back to Dragonstone. But when Jon rejects her (not for the first time), she decides fear (which strangely equals torching innocents) is the solution to her problems. Going back to Dragonstone was done to buy time so Jamie could get captured, talk to Tyrion and die together with Cersei._

_Jorah’s death kinda made sense. Rhaegal’s and Missandei’s didn’t. Those deaths were such an obvious set-up to get Daenerys where they wanted her to be to have King’s Landing finally being burned to the ground. Missandei’s death is the biggest error in reasoning. Let’s assume Euron actually remembered Missandei from the Dragonpit and assumed correctly that she meant something to Daenerys. (I doubt he’s that observant.) Why would Cersei kill her? It’s outright stupid on Cersei’s part. Cersei’s goal was survival at that point. If she had kept Missandei alive and close by, it’s unlikely Daenerys would have attacked and risked killing Missandei. Cersei killed Missandei for no real reason and thus provoked Daenerys unnecessarily. And what Missandei should have done was just throw Cersei off that makeshift scaffolding. It would have been so easy._

_I also think that painting Daenerys as mad is lazy. She suddenly became more evil than Cersei, Tywin or her father and it’s supposed to make sense because her madness genes were suddenly switched on. And why is there only one type of madness in Westeros (the kind where people want to kill other people)? It could have been interesting though to see her struggling with the madness, trying to fight it and failing, even more so with Missandei and Jorah still around. And if the message was supposed to be “power corrupts” I am not sure throwing madness in there as well is helpful._

_The many times the “coin flip” suddenly resurfaced felt more like an alibi than foreshadowing. Or foreshadowing with a sledgehammer. And foreshadowing and character development are two very different things. To say one should have seen it coming is cherry-picking. Yes, it was shown that Daenerys could be ruthless (Mirri Maz Duur, Slaver’s Bay, the Tarlys). But it was also shown that she cared about people. She hated the fighting pits. She didn’t want to execute the former slave on her council who took matters into his own hands and killed a Son of the Harpy in Meereen. But she did it anyway and risked antagonizing the freed slaves. She was devastated by the little girl burnt to death by Drogon. And she abandoned her pursuit for the Iron Throne to fight in the North. Also, there were plenty of hints and foreshadowing that didn’t lead anywhere. How many people thought Daenerys would get pregnant after Jon pointed out that a witch wasn’t a reliable source of information? Focusing on some of the hints in hindsight and saying those were the valid ones and forgetting about the rest is cherry-picking.  
_

_I get where all of this was going and that they were running out of time. With six episodes instead of ten and with all the visual effects (battle scenes, dragon scenes, burning of King’s Landing) they were left with about four episodes to get the story to the finish line. Even skipping the pointless Bronn storyline wouldn’t have bought them enough time to pull it off. Bronn is a great character, but that was a total waste of time. It didn’t make any sense to begin with. If nothing else, it should have reminded the Lannister brothers that Cersei wanted them dead badly, which it didn’t. It felt like: Let’s write something for Bronn because he has great chemistry with Tyrion and Jamie. There was no time for something like that._

_Another thing that made no sense: Jamie left Winterfell after Arya, getting further delayed by his capture, but they arrive in King’s Landing at the same time. If Arya hadn’t dawdled on the road, she could have saved King’s Landing. Also, why not tell Jon what she was up to? Did neither Sansa nor Jon wonder where Arya had run off to? At least Sansa should have been able to guess and told Jon, so he wouldn’t risk his life (and their men) unnecessarily. But it seems the pack separated without sharing any of their respective battle plans. How ironic after all the “family” and “the pack survives” talk._

_And the ending? I thought it was too neat for Game of Thrones. And what about the other kingdoms? The council looks almost exactly like when Robert was king (Robert was off whoring, Bran will be off warging). And no seat on the council for the Iron Islands or Dorne? Seems unfair and imprudent. Bran would have been the perfect Master of Whisperers though. He knows every secret anyway and there would have been no more need for child labor. ;-)_


	5. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter was titled "The End" because it was the end of dealing with canon plot points. We are slowly starting to leave Season 8 behind now. We won't be quite rid of it yet, which is why this is titled "Aftermath", but definitely getting there.
> 
> I considered splitting this chapter because it got quite long, but then I would have needed an additional chapter title. And I think the scenes fit together quite well. There's some Jorah and Daenerys, some Jon and Daenerys and some Jorah and Tyrion in here. I am aware that the last chapter was a bit atypical for my stories, especially since there was not one single Jorah/Daenerys scene in it. I hope this chapter makes up for it.
> 
> We are not quite halfway through this story. I said six to seven chapters in the beginning. It's more like eleven or twelve at the moment. The last chapter has been written, but the ones in-between keep expanding with additional scenes.
> 
> Thanks for the comments!

When Jorah arrived at Dragonstone, Daenerys, Tyrion, Jon, Ser Davos and Grey Worm were assembled in the Chamber of the Painted Table.

"Leave us," Daenerys commanded when she saw Jorah.

Even after the others had left, they just stood there for a moment with the table between them.

After her attack on the Red Keep Daenerys had somehow managed to keep her emotions in check, to just ignore and bury them deep down. She had just functioned in order to deal with the aftermath. But Jorah's arrival threw her. She hadn't expected him here, but in a way she wasn't really surprised that he was here either. Daenerys was suddenly overwhelmed by feelings. She was torn between misery and relief. She was rooted to the floor and didn't know what to do.

Jorah observed her closely. At least she didn't seem hurt. Her face didn't betray her emotions at all. Her face was expressionless, except for her eyes. He could see the turmoil there. "When I heard that Missandei… I'm so sorry," he said finally.

"You know what her last words were to me?" she asked, blinking back tears.

He shook his head.

"Dracarys." And that's when she broke down, sinking to the floor.

Jorah rushed to her side, taking her into his arms. Daenerys wept bitterly. Her body was shaking and her sobs were heartbreaking. Jorah just held her and let her cry, gently stroking her back to soothe her. It took a long time until she was able to speak again.

"I should have done it a long time ago. Then she would still be alive," Daenerys said. "I can hardly look at him."

"At whom?"

"Grey Worm. Every time I see him… It's my fault."

"Cersei killed her, not you."

"She jumped."

"What?"

"Missandei jumped off the wall, before they could…" Daenerys started crying again, putting her arms around him, needing to hold on to him.

"It was Cersei who killed her," Jorah insisted gently.

Daenerys hugged him tighter, making him wince. She looked at him, her eyes red from crying. "Are you alright? You shouldn't have come."

"I couldn't stay away. I came south with Jamie Lannister."

"Is he here?" Daenerys asked alarmed.

"No, he stayed in King's Landing, looking for his sister's body."

"I doubt he will find anything."

"Me neither."

"You saw it then?"

"Yes."

She leaned against him again, totally exhausted. "So many lives lost. I know you told me not to become impatient. But Cersei would have never surrendered. I had to. I didn't know what else to do anymore. It was all falling apart. I didn't see another option. I should have attacked weeks ago, when Cersei was still unprepared. I allowed her to build better weapons against my dragons. I allowed her to use the city against me. What would she have done next? Tyrion should have been able to predict her actions, but he failed again and again. Tyrion begged me to continue the siege. I gave her a chance to surrender and her answer was killing Missandei. Cersei would have never surrendered. I didn't know what to do anymore. I lost control of everything. I just wanted it to end." Daenerys started to cry anew.

Jorah knew that nothing he could say would console her.

"I failed," she said.

"You won."

Daenerys raised her head again. "Then why do I feel like I lost?"

"I know it didn't go like you wanted it to. Like you hoped. With people welcoming you with open arms-"

"You were right about that. You told me a long time ago. I should have listened. I should have listened more closely. Remember what you told me once in Astapor? There will be blood on my hands. I had completely forgotten it. But when I saw the ash and dust rise from the Red Keep, your words suddenly came back to me. And since then it's been all I can think about." She actually looked at her hands and expected them to be red with blood.

"You ended it in one day. No matter how you would have taken King's Landing, some innocents would have always gotten killed." That was the way of war.

"I could have ended it earlier," Daenerys said tiredly. "Yara's fleet, my Dothraki and Unsullied… Maybe then King's Landing wouldn't have happened like it did. There wouldn't have been so many people inside the Keep." She leaned against Jorah and closed her eyes. She had no more tears left. She felt completely empty inside. And numb. "You were right with so many things. But with one thing you were wrong. I don't have a gentle heart."

Jorah laughed.

Daenerys pulled back from him, stunned by his reaction.

He smiled that knowing smile at her. "You wouldn't be sitting here on the ground crying, if you didn't."

"How do you know I am not just crying about Missandei or pitying myself?" she challenged him.

"Because I know you," Jorah said with utter conviction.

Daenerys just stared at him. And what she saw in his eyes made her want to weep all over again, but this time because she was so thankful that he was here. That he was still by her side. That he hadn't abandoned her, just like he had promised. Jorah didn't say those words because he wanted to cheer her up. He said them because he truly believed in her, even if she herself didn't anymore. Jorah looked back at her with those kind eyes. For just a moment they almost made her forget. Had there ever been anything but kindness in them, even when he had disagreed with her? Kindness and love, she realized. The love she had mostly ignored, knowing very well though that it was always there, there for her to see, there for her taking, if she ever wanted to.

"Come on, let's get off this cold floor." Jorah pulled himself up on a chair and then helped her up.

Daenerys saw how he was struggling to get up. Was it his side? Or his hip? She couldn't quite tell. "You aren't healed yet. You shouldn't have come. I told you to…" She trailed off. Whom was she kidding? She was so glad that he was here.

Jorah made her sit on one of the chairs and sat opposite her.

"Varys is dead," Daenerys said.

"What? How?"

"Drogon. I burned him. I warned him a long time ago. And he betrayed me anyway. He wanted Jon to become King."

"How did Varys find out?" Jorah asked.

"Sansa told Tyrion and Tyrion told Varys."

"Tyrion?" Jorah could hardly believe that Tyrion would betray Daenerys. He knew that Tyrion and Varys were friends, but Tyrion was Daenerys' Hand.

"Yes. But it was also Tyrion who told me that Varys was planning to betray me."

Jorah let that sink in for a moment. "And Jon? What does he think about it now?"

"That's what I am about to find out."

"You are meeting with him?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Don't."

"Why? You think Jon would harm me? He would have to rule in my stead then. And I am pretty sure he still doesn't want to. I have the feeling he wants it less than ever before. But if he wants it, I am willing to rule with him together."

"Marriage?"

"Yes."

"Do you think he has changed his mind?" Jorah asked.

"No. I think after what he saw me do in King's Landing – even if we weren't related – he wants me even less than he wants to rule. But maybe we can find an arrangement that works for everyone."

* * *

When Jon entered, Jorah was about to leave. On his way out Jorah gave him the most threatening look ever. Daenerys was standing at the other end of the room. When Jon came closer he could see that her eyes were red. It was obvious that she had been crying. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded. And then she came straight to the point. "Rule with me."

"I can't."

No surprise there, Daenerys thought. "Marry me and we can-"

"I can't," Jon repeated.

"Please, hear me out. I am proposing a solely political marriage. To bring peace to the Seven Kingdoms. To strengthen my hold on the realm and to reward the North for fighting against the Night King. Many will oppose me because I am not from Westeros, because I am a Targaryen."

"I don't think you have to worry about that. Everybody is tired from the recent wars. I don't think there is any opposition left. They will all swear loyalty to you, trying to get the most out of your win for themselves."

That was one possible scenario. Only time would tell. "I've asked you before, Jon. I am asking again. What do you want?"

"Let me go back to Winterfell. Let me be Warden of the North."

"No King in the North?"

"No."

"You really can't get away from me fast enough, can you?" He could have blackmailed her into almost anything by threatening to make his claim public. But Jon Snow wouldn't do that.

"That's not it. I am not made to rule King's Landing. Or the Seven Kingdoms. I will remain your most loyal servant." Jon thought about it for a moment. "Your second most loyal servant," he corrected himself. "I still do love you. But I don't think it's a good idea for me to stick around." One day he might forgive her for how she had taken King's Landing. And maybe then the temptation would become too much and he would despise himself for it. "I love you too much to stay."

Too much, she thought. Jorah loved her and had never thought of leaving her because it was too difficult. "Yes, it would wear you down," she agreed. "Go home to Winterfell, Jon Stark, King in the North."

Jon looked at her bewildered. "What?"

Daenerys knew how desperately he wanted to be a Stark and didn't want to be associated with anything Targaryen, especially after what she had done. "That's what you always wanted, isn't it? To be a Stark?"

"Yes, my whole life."

"If you don't want to be king, I am sure Sansa wouldn't mind becoming queen. She asked me for independence for the North almost as soon as I had arrived in Winterfell."

Jon looked at her astonished. Then he said, "You don't have to do this. Sansa won't push my claim. She can't. Not anymore."

"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked confused.

"I burned the book."

"What book?"

"The book that contains the proof that my parents were married and my father's first marriage was annulled."

"You did what?" He had burned the only proof that he was not a bastard.

"I wanted it to end. It caused nothing but trouble, for both of us. And I never wanted the throne."

"Bran knows."

"He said it's my decision. He wouldn't tell anyone. And who would believe him? The story is so unlikely. Even if people believed I was Lyanna's son, everybody thinks she was held against her will. And Bran is my brother. Everyone would think he has an ulterior motive by telling such a story."

"Thank you, Jon."

"I did it for me as much as I did it for you. I shouldn't have told anyone. I just couldn't… it was too much to bear alone."

"You weren't alone. I was right there."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"So am I. But I stand by what I said. The North earned it. You earned it. There wouldn't be a North without you, Jon. There might not even be a Westeros without you."

"Or without you."

Daenerys smiled at him.

"What are you going to do now?" Jon asked.

"Look ahead. Rebuild. And try to survive the winter that lies ahead of all of us."

"I wish you good fortune in those endeavors," Jon said sincerely and took his leave.

* * *

Jorah was tired from the long ride and his wounds, especially his hip, were aching. But before he could lie down, there was something else he needed to do first.

Even though Tyrion had told Varys about Jon's claim to the Iron Throne, Daenerys had decided not to have him killed. But Jorah needed to come to his own conclusion. He had come to respect Tyrion. But if he believed he was a threat to Daenerys, he would kill Tyrion.

"It's good to see you up and walking again," Tyrion said. "Although I doubt you should be traveling half across Westeros yet." He motioned to a chair for Jorah to sit down.

"I couldn't stay in Winterfell when I heard about Rhaegal and Missandei."

Tyrion nodded in understanding.

"I traveled together with your brother."

"Jamie is here?"

"In King's Landing, searching for your sister's corpse."

Again, Tyrion just nodded.

"But I am not here to talk about your brother or your sister. I'm here to talk about Varys. Why did he betray Daenerys?"

Tyrion sighed. "Because Varys believed she was turning mad like her father."

"You can't damn the daughter for her father's sins. You should know that."

"I agree. But Varys truly thought Daenerys was going mad. She was losing it. She lost Rhaegal and then Missandei. She became consumed by her grief. She didn't listen to us anymore."

"As queen she doesn't have to listen to you. Especially if your advice isn't helpful."

"I admit that I should have served her better," Tyrion said. "In hindsight some of my advice didn't have the desired outcome. But lots of innocents were killed when she attacked the Red Keep."

"Varys betrayed her before that. Why? Grief isn't madness. Revenge isn't madness. Haven't we all done things out of revenge? Why did Varys distrust her so much?"

"I can't answer that for you. I can only guess. Varys saw Aerys go mad. I think he was haunted by that. Maybe he thought that back then he should have done something to stop Aerys. Varys' loyalty was always to the realm first, not to the ruler of the realm."

"And what did he think he could do for the realm that Daenerys could not?"

Tyrion stayed silent. He couldn't reveal Varys' true motives without also revealing Jon's secret.

"He wanted to replace her with Jon," Jorah said. They couldn't have an honest conversation as long as this wasn't out in the open. Jorah had fully intended to let Tyrion know that he was aware of Jon's true parentage. But first he had wanted to test Tyrion.

"So she told you. Of course she did. You are probably the only one she still fully trusts, besides Grey Worm."

"Why did you betray her?" Jorah asked.

And that was when Tyrion realized why Jorah was really there. This wasn't just about Varys. This was just as much about Tyrion's involvement in all of this. Tyrion knew the next few moments might decide over life and death for him. He knew Jorah seldom did anything without his Queen's permission, but in this case he wouldn't bet on it. He needed to consider his next words very carefully.

"You told Varys about Jon's real parents," Jorah went on angrily. "You knew what Varys was capable of. It wouldn't have been the first time Varys tried to get rid of Daenerys."

"I realized my error. And I wish I had never told him. Then he would still be alive. I am responsible for his death. Varys wanted Jon on the Iron Throne. Maybe if I hadn't told him about Jon, he would have given Daenerys a chance. But once Varys knew about Jon his mind seemed to be made up."

"You don't want Jon on the throne?" Jorah asked.

"I do like Jon Snow, I really do. But Jon never wanted the Iron Throne. And I'm not sure he's made for it. He's never even been to King's Landing before. He doesn't know what it's really like. But he's smart enough to know he wouldn't like it. I think he got a taste of what being at the top means when he was Lord Commander of the Night Watch. And he left that behind. But Varys wanted Jon on the throne. He thought Daenerys would abuse her power. But Varys abused his own power. He decided for himself who was fit to rule and who wasn't. He decided for all of us, for all the realm. Varys had the power to make and break kings. He didn't even give Daenerys a chance to prove herself. He thought Jon was the safer bet. Daenerys is difficult to control or influence. She's unpredictable at times. Jon would have been easier to handle. Maybe Jon would have gladly turned over his power to the council. When Robert sat on the Iron Throne the real power was the council. Varys loved to play the game and he was one of the best, if not the best. Maybe that's what Varys was really after. Maybe he wasn't even aware of it. Under Daenerys he didn't have much to do. Maybe he missed that kind of power he had while Robert was sitting on the Iron Throne. Maybe not. We will never know."

"What do you think? Do you think she is mad?"

"Would I have turned Varys in if I did?"

"That was before King's Landing. What do you believe now?"

"She hasn't said much since then. But setting up shelters and soup kitchens doesn't seem mad to me. I want to believe in her. Like I used to believe in her. Like you still believe in her."

Jorah observed Tyrion quietly, trying to figure out if his words were honest.

"I know you will kill me, if you think I am a threat to her," Tyrion said. "I know this is a trial. I know what a trial looks like. This isn't my first one."

"I really would hate to kill you though," Jorah said, "after all we've been through together."

"But you would do it anyway."

"Yes."

Even though Daenerys hated when decisions were taken out of her hand, Jorah would probably get away with it, especially at the moment. "Can I ask you a question in return?" Tyrion asked.

Jorah nodded.

"Do you think you would see if she turned mad?"

"I've seen what Viserys was capable of. I am not sure if you can call that mad already, he might have very well been on the way there. But you don't need to be mad to hurt people. Viserys had no regard for life. Not even for his sister or for her unborn child. Daenerys is nothing like her brother. She has compassion. Viserys didn't even know what compassion was."

"You didn't answer my question. Would you see it? Do you see it?" Would someone this close to Daenerys, who loved her unconditionally, see the change?

"Do I see what?"

"That she has," Tyrion chose his next words carefully, "hardened?"

"Of course I see it. But I also see the other side."

"The other side?"

"How much more she is hurting."

"You are too close to her. You love her. Love is the death of duty."

"My duty is to my Queen," Jorah said and stood up, towering over Tyrion. "As was yours. You are her Hand. You should have never told Varys. If her own council turns against her just because she is grieving her child and her friend, how did you expect her to react? When she needed you the most, you turned against her. Whom was she supposed to trust? Why should she trust in your advice when you betray her?"

"You think it would have been different, if I hadn't told Varys? Is that what you are saying?"

Jorah started pacing the room. "We will never know, will we?"

"You didn't see her after Missandei's death."

"I know much better than you what Missandei meant to her."

"Do you really not care about the innocents that died in the Red Keep?" Tyrion asked appalled. "Is Daenerys all you care about?"

"Of course I care about them and wish it hadn't happened. But I wouldn't have had a better solution for her. Neither did you. There are no easy decisions in war. Cersei might have planned something else. You underestimated her so many times. And it led to Missandei being killed just so Cersei could hurt Daenerys. Cersei killed an innocent and she would have killed many more. And you know that. Why did you flee Westeros? She wanted you dead, her own brother. Did you forget that? You wanted Cersei gone as much as the rest of us. You got what you wanted. And now, after you got what you wanted, you are complaining about how it was done."

"I am not complaining."

"You wish it had been achieved differently," Jorah said.

"Yes, I do. Of course I do."

"If you abandon Daenerys now, you just used her. You all gladly rallied behind her because of her armies and her dragons. We defeated the wights. She got rid of Cersei. There is no real threat in Westeros anymore. But now you say she did it the wrong way. Cersei would have never surrendered. You know that better than anybody else. Daenerys made tremendous sacrifices. She lost so much. What sacrifices did you make? What friends did you lose? What armies or allies did you bring to the game?"

"I never had any friends to begin with," Tyrion said. "Except for Varys, and I got him killed. And I am not planning to abandon Daenerys. I just hope there never is a need to use her dragon as a weapon again."

"You would have rather taken the city with our armies? Would that have made you feel better?"

"Call me old-fashioned, but what is wrong with man fighting against man?"

"Only someone who has never stood on a battlefield can say that," Jorah said angrily.

"I have stood on battlefields. How do you think I came by those scars?"

"And how many men did you kill with your sword?" Jorah asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "War is brutal. It's slaughter. It's not less brutal than being burnt by dragonfire. And the outcome is the same. People die. Innocents would have died if we had taken the city without Drogon. The Northern armies would have lost many more men. Many families would have never seen their husbands, sons or fathers come home. Didn't the North lose enough already fighting against the White Walkers, protecting all the realm, while the rest of Westeros was blissfully unaware of the threat?"

The North had indeed suffered enough, Tyrion thought. And Daenerys had promised Sansa that she would not sacrifice their armies unnecessarily. But at the cost of innocent people? It didn't sit well with Tyrion no matter how he looked at it. The only other way would have been assassinating Cersei. Maybe Jamie would have been able to get close enough to her. But Tyrion doubted Jamie would have been able to kill Cersei, especially since she had been pregnant with their unborn child.

"Will you betray her again?" Jorah asked. It was the question of all questions.

Tyrion looked at Jorah and took a deep breath to collect his thoughts before he answered. "If I say yes, you will kill me. If I say no, I might be lying. I can't really tell you at this point. But I will tell you the truth. I don't think she wanted to kill those people. But she did. Was that a first sign of madness? I don't know. You pointed out earlier that we all had likely done something out of revenge. I have. I killed my own father out of revenge. But he was hardly an innocent. The woman I loved was an innocent though. And I killed her anyway. Because seeing her with another man, with my own father, drove me temporarily mad. We struggled and I strangled her. And I only stopped when I knew she was dead. She only did what she had to in order to survive in King's Landing. She really had no other choice. I did. I could have just walked away. But I couldn't forgive her. It hurt too much." Tyrion needed a moment to compose himself. He walked over to the table and poured himself a glass of wine, gulping it down in one go. He then turned around to face Jorah again. "I am hoping that the Red Keep was just a temporary moment of weakness. I am hoping with all my heart that Daenerys won't turn mad like her father. She is the most powerful person in all of Westeros. At the moment nobody would have even the slightest chance of overthrowing her. She can do whatever she wants and nobody would be able to stop her. And I promise you this, I won't follow her blindly. But I also promise that I will try to serve her better than I have so far. Does that answer your question?"

Jorah gave him the smallest of nods. "For now," he said and walked towards the door.

"Daenerys will make you her new Hand, won't she?"

"She hasn't said anything like that to me," Jorah replied. The truth was that Jorah didn't particularly care anymore. He knew he had her trust. Daenerys came to him, not to Tyrion, when she needed someone to talk to. She had shared her most valuable secret with him, that of Jon's true heritage. And earlier she had felt safe enough with him to pour her heart out and share her innermost thoughts with him. She hadn't gone to Jon or Tyrion for that. Jorah felt more secure in his position by her side than ever before. He didn't need a title.

* * *

When Daenerys entered Jorah's quarters, she found him lying on his bed. Jorah was about to get up, but Daenerys stopped him. "No need to get up. Please stay where you are."

Jorah sat up, leaning against the headboard.

Daenerys sat down on the edge of his bed. "Are you alright?" she asked concerned. She would have sent a maester to take a look at his wounds, but they didn't even have that at the moment.

"Yes, I'm just a bit tired from the long ride." The wounds at his side and hip were hurting after riding hard for days. But she didn't need to know that. She already had enough to worry about. "How did things go with Jon?" Jorah asked.

"As expected. Jon left. I sent him home to Winterfell. Jon Stark, King in the North."

"King in the North?" Jorah asked surprised.

"Yes."

"If you start granting independence to one kingdom, the next one won't be far behind."

"The North earned it."

"Still."

"I'll deal with it when it comes to that," Daenerys said. "For the moment I am hoping everyone will be content with not having to fight anymore. Besides, there are more pressing matters than who gets to sit on the new council or who gets their own kingdom."

"I hope the other houses see it the same way as you do," Jorah said hesitantly.

"I've ordered Tyrion and Ser Davos to go back to King's Landing. They are to find out what got destroyed and what we need to take care of as a priority. They both know the city well. And Tyrion wanted to look for his brother. The Unsullied have already started setting up shelters and soup kitchens. But the sudden onset of snow doesn't really help matters."

"Ser Davos didn't go back North with Jon?"

"No. He asked to stay here and help us in King's Landing."

"Ser Davos would probably get bored very quickly in the North," Jorah said with a smirk. "He's served Stannis and Jon. He was a smuggler and he's been north of the Wall. He's seen a lot and he's survived a lot. He'll be very useful."

"Yes, I hope he'll stay for the long-term. I will offer him a seat on the council, as a representative of the people of King's Landing," Daenerys said.

Jorah took her hand. "You should really get some sleep." She looked like she hadn't slept for days and her eyes were still a little bit red from crying earlier.

She nodded tiredly. "I will." Daenerys gently placed her hand over his side where she knew the wound was located. "So should you." Supporting herself with her other hand on the bed, she leaned forward and lightly kissed him on the lips. "Thank you," she whispered. Telling him for what she was thankful would take all night, so she simply left it at that.

Jorah was too stunned to say or do anything. And when he had his wits about him again, Daenerys had already gotten up and walked towards the door.


	6. Chapter 6 - Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been one of those chapters... Sometimes the decision between posting a chapter quickly and working on it for a while longer is quite a struggle. Usually, I decide on delaying rather than posting. And usually, the result is even longer chapters, which hopefully make up for the longer wait.
> 
> We are truly leaving canon and Season 8 behind us now. And a small reminder (the last one you'll get): This is a Jorah/Daenerys fic. If you don't like it, don't read. If you read, don't whinge, as the Hound would say.
> 
> Thanks to HereIStand for the review. It’s much appreciated.

_Dragonstone_

"The Unsullied are only pulling dead people out from under the rubble," Jorah read aloud the message from Tyrion. "There are no more survivors."

It was a small miracle that there had been any survivors at all after what she had done to the Red Keep. If the fire hadn't killed them, the collapsing building should have. Daenerys closed her eyes. It was no use. There was no way back. She had to live with what she had done.

Jorah watched her and knew exactly where her thoughts had taken her. "Are you planning to rebuild the Red Keep?" he asked, trying to keep them focused elsewhere.

Daenerys sighed, aware of what he was doing and willing to go along. "I don't know yet." Harrenhal had never been fully rebuilt. Did she want to rule from King's Landing? At the moment there was nothing left to rule from. Rebuilding would take years. And rebuilding in winter wouldn't be prudent. Did she want to be reminded of what she had done every single day? A part of her thought she should, as a warning. But just thinking about King's Landing now made her sick to her stomach. If they ever uncovered the Iron Throne, she was thinking of having it thrown into the ocean by Drogon. Should she just stay on Dragonstone? Or chose somewhere else as her new seat of ruling? She felt safe on Dragonstone, but it was very isolated, not an ideal place to rule from.

Daenerys looked at the pile of messages on the table. Messages from all over the Six Kingdoms. Messages from houses pledging their allegiance, messages with marriage proposals, messages with suggestions for new people on the council. Daenerys was ignoring them all for now. For the moment, her priority was to contain the damage she had done herself. People were searching for loved ones. Many had fled the city altogether. Buildings close to the Keep had been damaged. And the snow hadn't let up. Even without her attack on King's Landing, the city had been ill prepared for winter. It seemed Cersei hadn't given it much thought. Food supplies were limited. People were dying from cold and lack of food. She turned her back towards Jorah, looking out the window.

"Daenerys," he said softly.

"Would you please leave me alone?"

Jorah sighed. "Of course, Khaleesi." He watched her with worry. She had become very distant over the last few days and had mostly kept to herself. No matter what Jorah did it didn't seem to make a difference. She refused to make any decisions regarding the future, be it marriage or the new council, dismissing it all as not important as long as King's Landing was still reeling from the attack. Admittedly, no one was forcing her hand at the moment. Everyone had their own problems to deal with and was glad for the respite. Everyone was looking towards Dragonstone, waiting to see what would happen next. Even Jorah had no idea what was really going on in her mind.

* * *

Jorah was in his room, writing messages, when someone knocked on his door. He went to open it and was surprised to find Daenerys there. He stepped aside so she could enter. Jorah offered her a chair, but she refused. She just stood there in the middle of his room, not saying anything. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Daenerys just nodded. She didn't move. She didn't talk. She just looked at him.

If she wouldn't talk, Jorah decided he would be blunt. He had given her space, hoping she would come to terms with what had happened on her own. But not pressing her on the matter hadn't gotten him anywhere the last few days. "I am worried about you."

"Don't be."

"You've been very quiet lately."

"I know."

Jorah was usually very good at reading her, but she had given him nothing to work with. "You know you can talk to me, whatever it might be."

"I know."

He sighed. "If it's about the message from Tyrion-"

Daenerys took his hands, stopping any further words. "I don't want to talk right now." And before Jorah could say anything else, she took a step towards him and pressed her lips against his. He didn't seem to object, but he didn't participate either. Daenerys pulled back to look at him. She saw confusion in his eyes, which was to be expected. Smiling at him, she gently trailed her fingers from his temple to his cheekbone. And then she kissed him again, letting him know that this was more than a simple thank you kiss.

Cautiously, Jorah started to return the kiss, but he kept it light, placing his hands loosely on her back, giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn't. Instead she put her hand behind his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. As much as Jorah wanted to enjoy this, he couldn't. His mind was in shambles. He broke away from her lips, but at the same time he tightened his hold on her, keeping her close, not wanting her to think he was rejecting her. "What are you doing?" Jorah asked softly.

"You said you still love me," she said, thinking it should be enough of an explanation and kissed him again.

Jorah gave in for a moment, but then pulled back again. "Daenerys," he said gently.

Since when was he so dense? She grinned slightly. "Do you really not know what this is?"

"Well," Jorah admitted with a coy smile, "I guess it's more the why than the what I am having slight problems with." Turning serious, he said, "Don't feel you owe me because I saved your life."

"I do owe you. So much. But that's not what this is about."

"Then what is it?"

"I simply want to do this."

Jorah moved a hand to her face, stroking her cheek. "You are hurting and lonely."

She gave him a tender smile. "Always looking out for me."

"Always. It's my job." Jorah looked at her intently, trying to figure out what her motive was. He didn't need her to love him. But if she hated him afterwards for taking advantage of her, that would be the worst for him. He wouldn't risk that, no matter how much he wanted to be with her. "Are you really sure this is what you want? I know you've hardly slept the last few days. You are tired and-"

"Don't patronize me. I know what I am doing."

"Are you?" Jorah challenged her.

She scrutinized him. Was he trying to provoke her? She sighed. It was more likely that he was trying to protect her. Daenerys had expected that he might have a hard time believing that she actually wanted him. "I am tired," she admitted calmly. "But that doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing. This didn't just occur to me tonight." Ever since the Battle of Winterfell her thoughts had drifted to Jorah again and again. She had prayed and begged all the gods she had ever heard of to not have him die. The thought that he could have been taken away from her forever had been unbearable. Even after Jorah had gotten better, the scenes from the battlefield, him falling to his knees, had haunted her in her sleep. Daenerys couldn't imagine her life without him. And she had realized that she finally had to ask herself why that was. There had never been a need to confront her feelings for him. It had been so simple with him. He was always there for her. She knew that Jorah would never leave her. "I came so close to losing you. It made me realize how much I need you, how important you are to me. In that moment on the battlefield, when you closed your eyes, I would have given anything to save you."

Like she had done for Drogo? "Don't make any more deals with dubious witches, promise me. I've had a longer and more fulfilled life than most people. There are a few regrets, but overall, it all led me to you. And serving you has been my redemption."

Not knowing what to say, Daenerys led him over to the bed. But when she started to take off her clothes, Jorah took her hands in his, stopping her.

"I don't want you to regret this. I am not leaving like Jon. I am content with how it is between us." Jorah did want her. But he was indeed content with their current relationship. After his betrayal, all he had hoped for was to gain back her trust. He was grateful that she thought of him as a friend again. He certainly wasn't opposed to becoming more than her friend and advisor. But his banishment had taught him to be content with what he already had.

"Maybe I am not content anymore with how it is between us. You are not a substitute for Jon. I want _you_." She freed one of her hands from his grasp and stroked his cheek. "I want to know what it feels like to be with the man who has protected me for years, encouraged me since the beginning, has loved me longer than anybody else. You don't expect me to be someone else, someone I am not. You love me the way I am."

"I do. But my love is not tied to any conditions. There's no need to rush this. I am not going anywhere."

Daenerys smiled at him. "Rushing? I'm not sure that's the word I would use. I am sorry if this is such a surprise to you. Trust me. I know what I am doing." She had thought about it very carefully for days now. But King's Landing had kept them all busy and allowing herself some happiness at such a time had felt inappropriate. Besides, Jorah's wounds hadn't completely healed. Certain movements still seemed to cause him pain. He tried to hide it from her, but wasn't always successful. "The only thing that is going to stop me is if you tell me you don't want me or if you are still in pain."

"That is not going to happen," he assured her.

"Then love me, Jorah."

"I do. Nothing will ever change that." He pulled her towards him, kissing her tenderly, leisurely, without any hurry or urgency. For the moment he was content to explore her lips with his own.

Daenerys let him do as he pleased, giving into his kiss, letting him lead, happy that he finally seemed to be a willing participant. For once she didn't want to be in charge. She wanted Jorah to take over. She just wanted to feel him. She wanted to forget. And his lips on hers made her forget. The only thought currently occupying her mind was that she could become addicted to his kisses. His lips were warm and soft, his movements were determined but not demanding. Warmth spread through her body. She felt safe and loved in his arms.

They stood there for a long time, just familiarizing themselves with each other's lips. When they eventually broke apart, Jorah proceeded to undo her dragon chain but had trouble with the clasp. Daenerys stilled his hands. She undid the clasp with ease and laid the chain over the edge of the bed. She took off her clothes until she was only wearing her undergarment. Instead of following suit, Jorah was just watching her. Daenerys looked at him bemused. She took a step towards him and helped him with his. When Jorah pulled his shirt over his head Daenerys examined his bandaged chest with a worried expression.

"It's healing well," Jorah assured her. "I just keep the bandage on to remind me that I have to be careful and to keep my clothes from chafing against the scar."

"Is that really all it is?"

"Yes." He started undoing the knot. "See for yourself."

Daenerys helped him take off the bandage. The wound had closed completely. Carefully she touched his skin, running her fingers parallel to the scar.

Jorah was extremely aware of her fingers touching his skin. His breathing accelerated.

"And the wound at your hip?" Daenerys asked, slowly trailing her hand lower until it rested at his hip, where he'd been cut deeply as well.

"How do you know about that?" Jorah asked, surprised that she knew the exact location.

"I cleaned your wounds."

"You did what?"

"With Missandei's help."

The wound was located so low on his hip that she would have only been able to see or clean it if he hadn't been wearing anything. "You saw me naked?" he asked. Jorah didn't really care. The revelation just caught him by surprise.

"Don't worry. You were partly covered by a blanket. Besides, I didn't pay attention. You almost died." Her look became distant. It hadn't been that long ago that Jorah had been lying in her arms, bleeding and unconscious, close to death. She pulled back her hands. "Maybe we shouldn't. I don't want to hurt you."

Jorah raised her chin. "Don't think about that." He took her hand and kissed it gently. "I'm fine."

When Daenerys looked into his eyes, a shiver ran down her spine. Besides love she saw desire there. Raw, fierce desire. The intensity of it made her forget to breathe for a moment. If she had ever doubted that he wanted her – and he had made quite an effort to discourage her since she had entered his quarters – those doubts disappeared when she saw the passion in his eyes. And it made her want him so much more.

Jorah leaned forward and kissed her again. This time he wasn't content with just her lips. He started to explore her mouth with his tongue, playing with hers, teasing her.

When they broke apart, breathing hard, Daenerys used the opportunity to move onto the bed, never breaking eye contact with him. Jorah quickly removed the last of his clothes and followed her. Daenerys undid the strings of her undergarment. But when she grabbed the cloth to pull it over her head, Jorah stopped her.

"Let me," he whispered and replaced her hands with his own. Jorah removed the last piece of her clothing. He did so very slowly, deliberately running his hands over her naked skin – over her thighs, her hips, her waist, her sides and slightly grazing her breasts – while taking the garment with him. In theory, he already knew what she looked like naked. But he had always averted his eyes quickly when she had stepped out of the fire unburnt. This was a completely different situation. He held her eyes for a long time, not yet daring to look at her body properly.

Daenerys had no such qualms. Totally unashamed she let her eyes roam over his body. She ran her fingers over his shoulder, over his chest and the greyscale scars, over the scar at his side and finally all the way down to the wound at his hip. His skin was marked by scars acquired in her service. It made her sad, but at the same time her heart swelled with gratitude, admiration and even pride.

Before she could explore any further, Jorah took her hand to stop her. He couldn't take much more of her touch. He wanted this to last. For him it was about much more than just the act of joining their bodies. It was about getting to know each other on a completely different level, and not just physically. It was about discovering an unknown part of her, a part that she had never revealed to him before. With one finger Jorah slowly trailed along a strand of her hair, trailing it between her breasts, following it with his eyes, eventually settling his hand on her waist. Jorah placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder, then on her neck, gradually working his way up to just below her ear. Then he wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close, skin touching skin. He claimed her lips in another kiss. Supporting her back, he guided her to lie down on the bed.

Finally, Daenerys thought. So far, Jorah had hardly touched her and her body was already on fire, yearning for more than just his kisses and rather chaste caress. She looked at him in wonder. He behaved as if he had all the time in the world. How could he be so slow when he had wanted her for years?

"Is something wrong?" Jorah asked, noticing her staring at him.

"No."

Looking into her eyes he saw trust, but also vulnerability. He could get lost in those eyes. And he wanted nothing more than to put some happiness there as well. "Tell me what you want."

"You."

She couldn't have said anything more beautiful to him. And her eyes conveyed the truth with which it was spoken.

Daenerys took his face between her hands. "Just you."

* * *

It was deep into the night. They lay under the furs, neither saying a word. Daenerys was nestled against his side, one leg thrown over his, fighting against her heavy eyelids.

Jorah had briefly wondered if she would stay with him for the night. But the way she clung to him left no doubt that she wasn't going anywhere. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes."

He pulled the furs up higher anyway, making sure she was covered up to her neck. "Sleep."

"Not yet."

"You can't have gotten much sleep the last few nights."

As usual, Jorah was correct in his assumption. She'd had nightmares every single night since Rhaegal's and Missandei's death. And the attack on the Red Keep hadn't improved things. The last few nights she had only gone to bed when she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. But she didn't want this night to end.

Jorah pulled her even closer and placed a kiss on her hair. "Sleep. I'll be right here." He caressed her back, drawing patterns on her skin, trying to soothe her. It didn't take long until she fell asleep.

* * *

_The next morning_

Daenerys had lain awake for a while, just enjoying the closeness with him, his warm body against hers. She knew it was the last hours she would get to spend with him. She had considered waiting for a bit longer to tell him, but she knew if she didn't do it now, she wouldn't be able to do it at all. She felt Jorah stir. When he opened his eyes he looked slightly confused for a moment. But then he smiled at her.

At first, when Jorah woke, he was somewhat disoriented. The memories of the night before only came back slowly and thus the reason why he was not alone in bed. She looked so unbelievably sad, dashing his hopes that he could chase the sadness away, at least for a few more hours.

Daenerys observed him quietly for a while, running her fingers through his hair, over his beard, tracing his lips, committing his face to her memory. Eventually she kissed him tenderly. Jorah returned the kiss more than willingly. When they broke apart, she buried her face against his neck and took a deep breath. "You have to do something for me."

Jorah took her hand in his and kissed her fingers. "Anything."

"Go back to Bear Island. Save your house. Take a wife and have children with her," Daenerys said, unable to look at him.

"What?"

"You helped me win back Westeros. I will ask no more of you."

He moved them so he could look into her eyes. "I am sworn to you. I can't protect you from Bear Island. I can't advise you from there."

"I release you from your oath."

Jorah stared at her in shock. "You can't. Only death can."

"Please don't make me order you," Daenerys implored.

"I don't understand… What made you… Why…?"

"You are the Lord of Bear Island. You have to go home. Your house will cease to exist, if you don't."

Jorah looked at her speechless, still trying to comprehend what was happening.

"You have advised me for years. Now let me advise you. Go home and save your house. I couldn't save mine. You can still save yours." With Jon having rejected his true heritage she was the last Targaryen. Any children Jon would have would be raised as Starks and carry the Stark name. Jorah was the last of House Mormont. He could still change the fate of his house. If Lyanna hadn't died, it would have been different. Daenerys didn't want to be responsible for the demise of his house, the proud House Mormont of Bear Island. Here we stand. Here we stand no more? Unthinkable. Jorah deserved better. Lyanna's death had been heartbreaking and couldn't be undone. But House Mormont could still be saved. Daenerys refused to be the end of his house. "Go home, Jorah. Your house needs you. Your people need you." She stroked his cheek and added in a whisper, "More than I do."

Jorah was silent for a moment. "You can't possibly mean it," he said finally, still in denial.

"I do," she assured him.

"I can't leave you now," he protested. Could he ever?

"I have managed without you before."

"You had Missandei and Ser Barristan," Jorah reminded her.

"I have Tyrion to advise me and Grey Worm to protect me."

"Tyrion and Grey Worm? That's your plan?"

She should have gotten angry at his defiant, almost condescending tone. Instead Daenerys tried to remain calm, at least externally. On the inside she wanted nothing more than to agree with him and to abandon her line of reasoning. "Ser Davos has agreed to stay and join the council. And Tyrion has requested a maester from the Citadel. Yara is also sending someone to represent the Iron Islands. So is Dorne. The new prince of Dorne will travel together with his envoy to Dragonstone."

"The prince of Dorne is coming here in person? He will offer his hand in marriage."

"That's very likely."

"And?"

"I will turn him down," Daenerys said without hesitation.

"Let me at least stay until he arrives. You don't know him. You can't trust him."

"I won't trust him. But Dorne has always been one of the Targaryens' strongest allies." The arguing was starting to wear her down. Of course she had expected resistance from Jorah. But it was getting more and more difficult for her to stay calm and convincingly assure him that this was what she wanted.

It seemed for every argument Jorah came up with, she had a reply prepared. He realized that this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. She had planned this. "Is that what last night was about? A farewell?"

"Yes."

"For my sake or yours?" Jorah asked with a mixture of anger and hurt.

Daenerys took his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly. "Both." She wanted to tell him she loved him, but then he would never leave. He probably wouldn't believe her anyway. She wanted to tell him she had loved him for a long time and only realized it on the battlefield when she had thought him dead. But she kept quiet because with Lyanna's death his path had to lead him away from her.

"Why are you doing this?"

"For you." And for herself. She had destroyed so much. The thought of destroying his house by being selfish and keeping him by her side was too much to bear. She wanted to rebuild. She wanted to make Westeros a better place. How could she start by being the end of his family? Jorah deserved so much more. There was no future for him at her side. "Please, Jorah. Don't make this harder than it already is. Go home."

"I can't."

"You can and you have to. You have a duty to your house." Before he could say anything else, she asked softly, "What would Lyanna tell you to do? What would your father say to you?"

Jorah looked at her in disbelief. She wasn't fighting fair. "Is this really what you want?" he asked.

No, Daenerys thought. But she had to do it anyway. At least he would be safe on Bear Island and not die protecting her. She could live with knowing he was alive somewhere else. He had always said he would die for her, if necessary. But his life for hers was a barter she was not willing to make, at least not anymore. "Yes. There's a boat waiting for you at the beach."

"Don't do this."

"Don't make me order you," Daenerys pleaded. She had prepared herself for his resistance. Asking him to leave was difficult enough. Forcibly removing him from Dragonstone would be her last resort and something she wanted to avoid. She didn't want it to end that way. "I will have you dragged off Dragonstone, if I have to."

"You really mean it," Jorah realized.

"Yes."

He looked at her as if she was crazy. The situation was absurd. They were still lying in bed naked. Only hours before, they had made love and whispered endearments into each other's ears. Jorah didn't have any doubts that she had enjoyed it as much as he had. And now Daenerys was asking him to leave her, to return to his home, a home he hadn't seen for many, many years.

"I have ordered a council meeting for today. I will let the others know why you won't be present."

"Council meeting? You don't even have a council."

"Tyrion and Ser Davos should be back later today."

"You want us to say farewell now?"

"Yes. Here and now. Where no one can disturb us."

Jorah was speechless.

Daenerys knew she was catching him completely off guard. But that was the whole point. If he had time to think this through, he might come up with a reason why she shouldn't let him go. And she couldn't allow that.

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Then don't. I think we have become pretty good at saying nothing." Daenerys wanted to tell him so badly what she really felt for him. She wanted to tell him that she didn't want him to go. But she couldn't. So instead she leaned forward and kissed him gently, slowly, and for a very long time.

Realizing that this was truly happening, that he would really have to leave her, Jorah buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her as close as he could, returning her kiss desperately.

Keeping her eyes closed, Daenerys put her forehead against his. There was so much to say, but no need to say anything. And anything she said might be her undoing. Quickly, she pushed away from him, getting up and putting on her clothes with her back to him, not able to look at him. When she was done, she returned to the bed. Jorah hadn't moved. Daenerys leaned down and kissed him one more time, trying to stop the tears, but failing. A few tears fell from her cheek onto his face. Before she could lose her composure completely, she pulled back and walked towards the door. One step in front of the other, she told herself. Don't look back. Just keep walking towards the door. She gripped the handle of the door, steadying herself. Only then did she trust herself to turn around and look at him. Tears were freely running down her face by now.

"I love you," Jorah said. "Always."

Daenerys slightly opened her mouth as if to say something. But then she quickly turned and left.

When the door had closed behind her, Jorah still didn't move, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She had asked the impossible of him. He couldn't leave. _I will have you dragged off Dragonstone._ He knew she meant it. Daenerys didn't say things like that as a joke. She had planned it, probably for days, maybe even longer. For how long exactly, he couldn't say. And it was too late to ask her now. It didn't matter anyway.

Eventually Jorah put on his clothes and walked around the room, trying to figure out what to do. There weren't any options really. He was just putting off the inevitable. His look fell on the bed and images of the night before assaulted him. How could something so wonderful become so painful so quickly? Their being together had been incredible. But the memories made his heart constrict painfully. The thought that he would never be with her like that again, never feel her body against his again, never feel her lips against his again was even worse.

He packed the few things he possessed in a daze. _Your people need you._ It was absurd. He, the disgraced son, was left to save Bear Island. It wasn't fair that Lyanna had died. It wasn't fair that his father had been betrayed and killed. It wasn't fair that he had to leave the woman he loved. Without him, what would happen to Bear Island? Jorah had written a message to Bear Island, inquiring who was in charge. But it had not occurred to him to go back, to leave Daenerys. Didn't that show that he wasn't worthy of ruling Bear Island? Many houses, especially in the North, had perished in the recent wars. But Jorah was still alive. Didn't he owe it to his people to at least try?

Jorah grabbed his things and left. He walked past the empty throne room, descended the long staircase and passed through the heavy gates flanked by dragon heads. When he reached the beach, a small boat was indeed already waiting for him. Jorah looked back one more time, knowing he would only see rocks, but not able to resist the urge to turn around. He refused to believe that this was their final farewell. But how long would it be this time until he would see her again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you it's not a fluffy story. There were actually two things that I found depressing in episode 8x03. The first was Jorah's death and his useless armor. The second was Lyanna's death and thus the end of House Mormont.
> 
> Since Chapter 7 will take place a few months later, it's a good point to take a break here. The plan is to focus on my other story for a few chapters again. I tried working on both simultaneously but got confused at times, since they are similar in some ways but quite different in others.
> 
> I'm very curious to find out what you think about this chapter.


	7. The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting patiently for this update. Happy to be back with more!
> 
> Big thanks for the many comments. Reading them was more than interesting. Emotions all over the place, on both sides of the screen. Honestly, it never occurred to me that she might get pregnant from that one night. 
> 
> The next part will be up very shortly.

_Several months later, Casterly Rock_

Tyrion sighed. Another tense and arduous council meeting had come to an end. Daenerys had been in a bad mood. It wasn't unusual though. She had been in a bad mood ever since her victory over Cersei and the destruction of the Red Keep. Since Jon had left. Since Jorah had left. There was no way of telling what had upset her the most.

Today, she had hardly said anything at all. But that didn't make people any less uncomfortable around her. Daenerys could easily silence anybody with just a look. The other council members were very careful in voicing their opinions. They tried to guess what would please their Queen. Therefore, the meetings were very slow-going and seldom productive. A good day was when she seemed distracted and wasn't paying much attention.

At times, Tyrion thought she didn't really care what her council did. Other times, he had the feeling that Daenerys was unsure of herself. It was hard to tell. He didn't really know what she thought. She didn't trust him anymore. Tyrion couldn't really blame her for that after what he had done. Their conversations were limited to official matters. He had long given up on small talk or jokes. Any attempts at casual talk or funny anecdotes from his side were met with silence.

However, Daenerys never missed a council meeting. She also diligently attended audiences. But it was the same every day. People were endlessly complaining and asking for things and support. And she didn't look like she was enjoying it. But she never missed an audience either. And if there were still people waiting, Daenerys stayed longer than official audience times. Afterwards she would retire directly to her quarters, dining alone. But judging from the food that came back, it was obvious that she didn't eat much.

At first Tyrion had put everything down to her new position as Queen of the Six Kingdoms. Daenerys had never had to rule over so many people before, never had to deal with so many lords and ladies before. And those lords and ladies had quickly realized that she wasn't as terrifying as Cersei had made them believe. Everyone was trying to get the best out of the transformation. Initially, they sweet-talked Daenerys. When that didn't work, they pushed her, gently at first, and if she still didn't agree to their requests, suggestions or demands, with more persistence. Days became weeks and weeks became months. And Daenerys' bad mood lingered. She tried to be courteous, but Tyrion could tell she was struggling. There was no enthusiasm in what she did. And she was visibly tired.

Today, Tyrion hadn't been interested in the council meeting at all. His mind was occupied with something else. A letter had arrived earlier. And he couldn't wait to confront his Queen with it.

When everyone else left the council chamber, Daenerys lingered. She seemed lost in thought, staring ahead, not saying a word.

"Guess from whom I received a message today," Tyrion asked Daenerys.

"I am not in the mood to play games."

"Very well. I will tell you. I received a message from Lord Mormont."

That made her turn her head in Tyrion's direction. But she quickly looked away again.

"Would you care to explain to me why I would receive a message from Ser Jorah, inquiring how you are?"

"How would I know?" Daenerys asked. "He wrote to you."

"That's exactly the point. He never writes to me. It's the only correspondence I am not privy to."

"How do you know what you are not privy to?" Daenerys asked.

Tyrion rolled his eyes. Now he wasn't in the mood to play this game. "Ser Jorah says he hasn't heard from you in a while and is getting worried."

"I'm fine."

"Tell that to him, not to me."

"He wrote to you. You may tell him I am fine."

Tyrion sighed. "He's worried because apparently you didn't reply to his last message."

"Maybe my last message got lost on its way," Daenerys said.

"Sure, with all the snow and wind. Dangerous times for ravens," Tyrion said with sarcasm. "Maybe next time you should have Drogon deliver it instead."

Daenerys just gave him a scathing look.

"I know you don't want to talk about him," Tyrion went on. And then he finally dared ask what he had wanted to know for months. "What happened? Why did he leave?" Back when Daenerys had first told them that Jorah had gone back to Bear Island to save his House, Tyrion had been somewhat surprised, but didn't have much time to give it any thought. They'd all been too busy with other things, like forming a new council and moving to Casterly Rock.

"You are right. I don't want to talk about him."

"Why did he leave?" Tyrion asked again. Had Jorah had enough of her? Unlikely. Jorah had been prepared to give his own life for his Queen's. Had he had enough of the fighting? But the fighting was over. Had he asked for more after Jon had left and she had rejected him? Also unlikely. Jorah would have given her the space that she needed after Jon had left her, comforting her, but never asking for more than she could give. To everyone else, Jorah's departure made sense. But not to Tyrion. He knew the man too well for that. Jorah would have never left her.

"To save his House."

Tyrion rolled his eyes. "Ser Jorah would have never left you. He would have never left unless something happened."

"Nothing happened. He went back home to save his House."

Tyrion held her gaze. "For you, he would have damned his House."

"I didn't want him to."

Tyrion gave her a quizzical look. Jorah would have never left her on his own account. The only person that had any influence over him was Daenerys. "He didn't leave. You set him away," he concluded. But why would she do that? Besides Grey Worm, Jorah had been the only one she still fully trusted. She had spent days – and nights – at his bedside when Jorah had been fighting for his life. Tyrion couldn't come up with an answer. Only two people knew the truth. And one of them was standing right in front of him. "Why did you send him away? What happened?"

Her eyes became moist and she quickly turned away from Tyrion, staring out a window.

Tyrion was at a loss. None of this made sense. And Daenerys clearly wasn't in the mood to share what had happened between her and Jorah. Tyrion considered backing off. But this was more emotion than he had seen from her over the last months combined. Sometimes you had to break something to rebuild it, right? "I'm curious. How did you do it? How did you convince our stubborn Ser Jorah to leave you? Even banishment didn't work last-"

Daenerys turned around. "Stop it! Enough!"

They just stared at each other for a moment. Daenerys was shocked at her own outburst. And Tyrion wondered if he had gone too far. Currently, he wasn't too happy with his job as her Hand, but he was still very fond of life in general. But with sudden clarity, Tyrion realized that there was not much left to be broken. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Pulling herself together, Daenerys said as calmly as she could, "Ser Jorah has a duty to his House and his people."

"He once told me his duty was to you," Tyrion said carefully. Jorah would have never left her. Tyrion was convinced of it now.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Daenerys replied. "He has a wife and very soon he will have a family too."

"His wife is pregnant?" Tyrion asked. Jorah hadn't mentioned anything like that in his letter. Was that the reason why Daenerys had stopped writing?

"Yes." At least House Mormont had a future now. That was what she had wanted, wasn't it?

"Then hopefully House Mormont will have an heir soon," Tyrion said. It would be a tragedy if the proud House of Mormont would end. He had been very fond of all the Lords and Ladies he had come to know, even if their characters were all somewhat curt and unwelcoming at first. Tyrion would never admit that about the current Lord of Bear Island though.

Daenerys had exchanged letters with Jorah since his return to the North. He had mostly talked about the day-to-day events on Bear Island, hardly ever mentioning his wife. Daenerys had done the same, keeping her letters mostly official, avoiding personal notes. She yearned and dreaded every letter that came. And after the last letter, in which he had told her that his wife was expecting their first child, she didn't know how to respond. She put it off again and again. She had wanted him to have a family. But reading that his wife was pregnant had hurt much more than she had expected. It made her feel so much lonelier than she already was. They hadn't been married that long and his wife was already pregnant. Admittedly, she had gotten pregnant rather soon after her marriage with Khal Drogo, but Drogo had lain with her almost every night. Had Jorah…? Daenerys couldn't finish the thought. And she had no right to be jealous. She had sent him away.

"Tell him I am fine," she said to Tyrion. "Tell him I have been busy."

Tyrion nodded and left.

Daenerys moved towards the fireplace, staring into the flames. The heat made her feel somewhat better. It made her remember the warmth she had felt during her one night with Jorah. Daenerys remembered how he had caressed her skin, how he had gently stroked her breasts, how he had savored her lips as if they were the finest wine he had ever tasted. She remembered how he had kissed the insides of her thighs, how he had grazed her delicate skin with his beard, how he had brought her to her first peak. Jorah's ministrations had been an expression of his love for her. No wonder some people called it making love. That's what he had done to her body. It had felt so right and so incredibly good. Daenerys would never forget that one night with him. Thinking about it made her sad, but she also drew strength from the memory. When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his arms around her. Why had she sent him away? In moments like these, when she needed him the most, she couldn't really remember.

* * *

_A few weeks later, Casterly Rock_

"Lord Tyrion?"

"Yes?"

"Lord Mormont is here to see you."

"I'll receive him here in my quarters."

It didn't take long until Jorah was shown in.

"So you got my letter," Tyrion greeted him.

"I did."

Tyrion tapped his fingers against one another, pretending to count. "You probably set a new record on the Kingsroad." Tyrion had had no doubt that Jorah would make his way to Casterly Rock, but he hadn't expected him that quickly. He must have dropped everything and set out immediately after receiving Tyrion's letter.

"You asked me to come," Jorah said, ignoring Tyrion's remark.

"I don't recall writing anything of that sort."

Jorah rolled his eyes.

Tyrion shrugged his shoulders. "I admit, I knew it wasn't necessary."

"Where is she?"

"It's nice to see you too," Tyrion said.

Jorah looked at him with annoyance and irritation, clearly showing that he didn't have any patience for this.

"Alright, small talk later then." Tyrion got up. "Follow me. She's in her quarters."

They walked through the long corridors of the castle.

"Whose idea was Casterly Rock?" Jorah asked.

"Hers."

Jorah raised an eyebrow.

"I know what you are thinking. But it didn't even occur to me. I was just as surprised as everybody else. But she couldn't stay on Dragonstone forever."

Jorah had indeed believed that Tyrion had had at least some influence on Daenerys choosing Casterly Rock, of all places. It was the seat of the Lannisters. It overlooked Lannisport. But the Red Keep was destroyed. Rebuilding even a fraction of it would have taken years as well as resources and manpower they didn't have. And tactically, Casterly Rock was an ingenious solution to many problems.

They reached Daenerys' quarters. Tyrion knocked. There was no answer.

"Just go in," Tyrion said. "If she really doesn't want to be disturbed she locks the door." He pushed down the handle and opened the door slightly. Then he left without another word. Tyrion was very tempted to stay, wanting to see Daenerys' reaction. But they deserved for this to be a private moment.

Tyrion had no idea if it had been a wise decision to have Jorah come to Casterly Rock. He hated setting things in motion when he didn't really know what the outcome might be. Tyrion still didn't know under what circumstances they had parted ways. It might blow up in his face. It could end in a huge argument and leave Daenerys in a worse mood than before. But Tyrion counted on Jorah that he would never hurt Daenerys willingly. Tyrion had decided it was worth the risk. His relationship with Daenerys hadn't been the best lately. But he hated to see her so unhappy.


	8. Just You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was really hard getting back into this story after such a long break. At first, when I was trying to finalize the next chapters for this story, I repeatedly came up with ideas for additional scenes for "Back at her side" instead. But I kept forcing myself back again and again and it worked. I have truly arrived back in this one now.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and feedback. It's very interesting to read them, since my point of view for this story differs slightly from yours. This story is quite a balancing act. Like you, I want them to be together. But I also wanted to work with what I was given by the TV show.
> 
> Let's get on with it.

Jorah slowly entered and closed the door behind him. He saw Daenerys standing at the window, looking out. He was reminded of Meereen, when she had decided to stay instead of sailing to Westeros after Joffrey's death. But her posture was different, not proud and determined. Her shoulders were slouched and she seemed smaller than he remembered her.

Daenerys had heard the door open. Only Tyrion was bold enough to come in after only knocking once, or rather at all. "What is it?" When there was no answer she turned around. And what she saw made her take a step back, bumping into the wall that was right behind her. For one moment she thought she had lost her mind. She daydreamed of Jorah now and then, but not today, not in this moment. Him standing there caught her totally unaware.

"It's just me," Jorah said softly.

She almost laughed. " _Just_ you?" He was the one person in all of Westeros and Essos she currently wanted to see. Daenerys had thought she would never see him again. Time seemed to stand still. She was hot and cold at the same time. Freezing and feverish at the same time. If she hadn't been leaning against the wall, she wasn't sure her legs would have kept her upright.

Jorah walked slowly towards her, watching her closely, trying to gauge her mood. He was about to kneel, but she stopped him.

"Don't."

He stood before her, gently taking her hands in his. She gripped them with a strength that defied her size. Jorah decided to be bold. Very slowly, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her temple.

"I can't believe you are really here."

"I am." He gently brushed his thumb over her hand.

Daenerys closed her eyes, feeling his rough skin caressing hers. When she opened them again she saw Jorah looking at her with a mixture of tenderness, curiosity and worry. She wanted to kiss him and was about to take another step towards him. But then she reminded herself that he was married now. The thought physically hurt. She closed her eyes, trying to shove the thought away, willing away the tears that were about to escape from under her eyelids. She barely succeeded.

Jorah leaned towards her and kissed her again, but this time on the lips.

The kiss caught Daenerys by surprise and she didn't know how to react. When Jorah pulled back, he looked at her with kind eyes. How she had missed those eyes. How she had missed him.

Jorah observed her carefully, wondering if he had overstepped his boundaries. Daenerys seemed surprised, but not angry. He was about to apologize, but she embraced him and he knew he hadn't misstepped. Jorah wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. They stood like that for a long time.

Eventually, she looked up at him. There was such profound sadness in her eyes. It made Jorah never want to let go of her again. When he gently stroked her cheek, the sadness was slowly replaced by longing. Her lips parted slightly. He was used to her taking the lead, telling him what she wanted, taking what she wanted. But the woman in front of him was not the Daenerys he had left months ago on Dragonstone. Instead of determined, she seemed unsure. Still, Jorah was as drawn to her as much as ever. He had seen this vulnerable part of her before, a very long time ago. And he had always known that it was still there, just deeply buried. Her empathy and compassion were part of why he loved her. They were the root of that vulnerability. But Jorah hated what it did to her at this moment. Not knowing how else to make it better, he leaned down and kissed her again.

After a short moment of indecision, Daenerys gave into the kiss. The tension was leaving her body. Jorah's lips on hers were warm and soft. A comfortable heat was spreading from them to the rest of her body. Gradually, a part of her that had been long neglected was starting to thaw. The kiss turned passionate quickly. Daenerys' initial hesitation disappeared completely. She returned his kiss with abandon, anchoring herself to his neck with her hands. But her hands didn't stay there for very long. They went around his back to unfasten his cloak. The heavy cloth slipped off Jorah's shoulders, falling to the floor. Next, she started undoing his belt.

He didn't stop her, but broke the kiss. "I travelled all day. Let me get cleaned up first."

"There's water over there," she said and pointed to the jug and basin. Letting go of him, Daenerys went over to the door and locked it. Then she started taking off her own clothes.

Jorah watched as she unfastened her coat and tossed it across a chair. Next was her dress. For a moment, he was dazzled by the sudden urgency, but also by how normal this seemed, as if he hadn't been gone for months. Strangely, now that he was in the same room with her, his longing for her was even stronger than before. He missed her more than he had the last few months.

"Have you changed your mind?" Daenerys asked.

"About what?"

"Washing?"

He realized he had been staring at her. This wasn't quite how Jorah had imagined their reunion. He hadn't come here with the intention of falling straight into bed with her, only minutes after entering her quarters. Admittedly, on the ride to Casterly Rock he had fantasized more than once about what it would be like to get lost in her body again. But he had to assume that their night on Dragonstone had been a one-time-only occurrence. Besides, his main purpose of coming to Casterly Rock was to see if she was alright. They had only exchanged a few words so far, but his gut told him she was far from alright.

Quickly, Jorah undid his clothes and washed in a hurry. By the time he had finished drying off Daenerys was already completely naked and stood by the fire. He walked towards her and embraced her from behind. They were standing too close to the fire for his liking, but her body partly shielded his from the heat. He gently caressed her stomach and then her ribs. He noticed immediately that she had lost weight.

She raised her hands, holding them even closer to the fire.

"Are you cold?"

"Always."

Jorah placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. He studied her face. All he saw was sadness.

Daenerys had thrown herself into her duties. First and foremost, a Queen was supposed to be there for her people. And she wanted to make amends for the destruction she had brought to King's Landing. She wanted to prove that she could be a good Queen, a better Queen than Cersei. It was no wonder that people only saw her as the Queen and nothing else. But the person behind the Queen was starting to get lost. She knew she couldn't go on like this much longer. Only Jorah could keep her from falling into the abyss that had opened up all around her. "Make me feel something. Please, Jorah, make me feel something again."

Her words tore at his heart. It was almost unbearable for him to see her like this. To hear such words from her. Jorah lifted her into his arms and she buried her face against his neck. He put her down on the bed and made her get beneath the covers, where he joined her only moments later. He tenderly kissed her fingers and then bent down to kiss her lips.

Her eyes filled with tears. Daenerys closed them and turned her face away, ashamed that Jorah saw her like that.

He stroked her cheek, turning her face back. "Look at me. Please, look at me."

She opened her eyes and only saw love there. Why had she let him go? Was he really here? Or was she dreaming after all? Daenerys reached out to touch his face. She stroked his beard, ran her fingers across his lips. Then she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him down to her, seeking his mouth.

Jorah molded his lips to hers, leaving neither of them much room to breathe. He wanted her badly. But he reminded himself that Daenerys wasn't quite herself at the moment and that he should be careful and gentle. Jorah made a conscious effort to slow them down. Unhurriedly, he moved his hands over her skin. He wanted her to feel cherished and loved. But to his surprise she wasn't aroused. She had started this. But her body was clearly telling him that this wasn't what she really needed. Her face, her tears, her lack of arousal, they all told him she needed something else. No matter how much he wanted her, he wanted even more to protect her from whatever it was that troubled her.

Daenerys could see his hesitation. "I want you," she assured him. "And I can tell that you want me." Daenerys could plainly feel his desire.

"Of course I want you."

She smiled. "I want this. I just…" She sighed, wrestling with her emotions again. Her feelings were all over the place and she hated it. "I'm just..." Daenerys didn't want to think anymore. "Please, Jorah. I do want this."

Feeling her skin against his, her breasts pressed against his chest, it was a bit difficult to not give in to the urge right there and then. But this wasn't about him. This was solely about her. Jorah kissed her softly, taking his time. "But we take it slow."

Daenerys nodded. She was content to go as slow as he wanted or thought she needed. As long as the result was something akin to their one night on Dragonstone she didn't care what he did. She just wanted him close. She needed to feel that another person truly cared about her.

Jorah put his arms around her and simply held her close. He would have pleasured her with his mouth, if he thought it would make a difference. But the problem wasn't her body, it was her mind. Everything had happened too quickly. Even he was slightly overwhelmed by the events. And he'd had several weeks to get used to the idea of seeing her again. But she'd had no warning. "It's my fault. I should have written that I was coming."

"All that matters is that you are here."

He kissed her tenderly. And for a while it was all they were doing. Eventually, Jorah lightly stroked her arms, then her back, her side, her breast and her bottom.

Daenerys pressed herself closer against his body, wrapping one leg around his hip.

"Patience," Jorah whispered. "Don't force it."

"When have you ever known me to be patient?" she asked with a smile.

He grinned. "Maybe once or twice."

Daenerys hit him playfully and moved on top of him. "Are you trying to insult me?" she challenged him.

"I would never dare insult you, Khaleesi."

Daenerys froze. He hadn't called her that for ages. Qhono and the other Dothraki still used that title, but it wasn't the same. When Jorah said it, it took on a different meaning. He said it with such admiration and devotion that it took her breath away.

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"

She stroked his face. "No. No, you didn't." Daenerys leaned down and kissed him deeply.

From that point on, everything happened on instinct. Their bodies moved together naturally. Everything else disappeared. It was just the two of them. Rediscovering each other. Finding comfort in each other. Receiving pleasure from each other.

* * *

Jorah kissed her very gently one more time. Then he lay down on his back and pulled her against his side. He rearranged the furs around them, making sure Daenerys wouldn't get cold. It felt so good to hold her in his arms. For a short moment, it felt like the last few months had been erased.

Daenerys closed her eyes. Feeling his skin against hers was soothing. Feeling his chest rise and fall was reassuring. All thoughts about duty and responsibilities were gone. Suddenly she became very tired. It wasn't even dark yet outside. Jorah's fingers caressing her back weren't helping. But it felt so nice. For the first time in months she felt relaxed and calm.

Jorah could feel her even breathing on his skin. "Daenerys?" he whispered. When she didn't answer, he smiled to himself. This wasn't the first time she had fallen asleep on him. Jorah was tired too, but he was content just lying there with her body pressed close to his. Besides, too many things were going through his head. And they all concerned the woman lying in his arms. After Tyrion's letter had reached him, he had left almost immediately. All the way to Casterly Rock he had worried about her. It seemed Jorah had been right to worry. They would find a way and figure it out together.

The fire was getting smaller and he wanted to put some more wood on it. But Daenerys had wrapped her arms tightly around him. Carefully, he tried to slip out of bed, but she only tightened her hold on him.

"Don't go," she mumbled.

"I just want to put some more wood on the fire."

"Don't leave me," she said, neither fully awake nor asleep.

With a sigh, Jorah relaxed back into the pillows. "I'm not going anywhere. I am staying right here." He made sure the furs were covering her completely and placed a soft kiss on her head. "Why?" he whispered. "Why did you make me leave?"

It didn't take long until Jorah fell asleep as well. The journey from Bear Island had been long, cold and uncomfortable. He slept better than he had in months. But he was woken repeatedly because the woman next to him was sleeping fitfully. Several times he had to pull her close, whispering calming words to her.

Jorah was no stranger to nightmares. He'd fought in many battles, but none had given him such gruesome and lasting nightmares than that one night against the wights. Sometimes he woke up thinking he had been stabbed again. Just thinking of the wights now made his heart beat faster. He took a couple of deep breaths, consciously pushing the memories out of his mind, replacing them with something else. He had gotten fairly good at this over the last few months.

Jorah turned his focus back on Daenerys. She seemed to be sleeping more peacefully again. The fire had gone out. It would be no use trying to light it now. He'd only risk waking her. He closed his eyes to get some more rest.

* * *

When Jorah woke, he didn't know how much time had passed. It had become dark outside. Everything was quiet. And he was hungry. He hadn't eaten properly since this morning. He knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep without eating something first. Daenerys was still tightly wrapped around his body. As carefully as he could, he moved her sleeping body, hoping she wouldn't wake up. To his own surprise, she didn't even stir. He went to collect his clothes. But in the darkness and the unfamiliar surroundings, he walked right into the table and knocked over the candelabrum. It made a horrendous noise when it hit the ground. Jorah cursed himself.

"Who is there?" came Daenerys' voice from the bed.

"I'm sorry. I knocked it over by accident. I didn't mean to wake you." He went back to the bed, getting back under the covers. It had gotten really cold in the room without a fire.

Daenerys' heart was beating rapidly. Jorah hadn't just woken her, he had scared her. Being woken by such a noise from a deep sleep, she had thought they were being attacked or that there was an intruder in her room.

Jorah realized that he must have given her quite a fright. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I forgot where all the furniture was."

"And you had to knock over the one thing that would make the most noise?" she teased him, trying to hide how much this rude awakening had startled her.

"I am really sorry."

"What were you trying to do anyway?"

"I was looking for my clothes. I wanted to get something to eat." He stroked over her ribs and added carefully, "You haven't been eating properly."

She sighed.

"Daenerys?"

It was no use, he would find out anyway. "On Dragonstone, before my attack on the Red Keep, Varys tried to poison me."

"What?" Anger and rage went through Jorah's body. If Varys hadn't been dead already, he would have killed him without a moment's hesitation. He should have killed him when he'd had the chance. Jorah had never trusted the spider. "Is that why you burned him?"

"No, Tyrion told me afterwards," Daenerys said. "Maybe Varys was right. Maybe I am not fit to rule. What if I do turn mad like my father. I-"

"Stop it. You are not thinking clearly. Which isn't really a surprise. You don't eat properly and you don't sleep properly. That has to change. Right now." He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You stay in bed. I'll get something to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"But I am after the long ride."

"I'll have something brought for you."

"It's late. I don't want them to make a fuss. I'm sure I can find something edible in the kitchen. I won't be long."

Jorah dressed and left. But his first stop was not the kitchen.

* * *

It was late, but Jorah knew that Tyrion often stayed up long into the night. And from the time it took Tyrion to come to the door, it was clear that he hadn't been asleep yet. Jorah pushed past him into the room.

"Why didn't you write to me sooner? And why the hell did you tell her that Varys tried to poison her? After he was already dead?"

"I didn't exactly tell her. But she eventually noticed that we had introduced a food taster."

"It seems she has hardly slept or eaten. Who can function like that?"

From Jorah's state of agitation Tyrion could tell that he was more than worried about Daenerys. "So it's worse than I assumed."

"Worse than you _assumed_?" Jorah asked angrily. "You are her Hand. How could you not know what is going on? I thought you cared about her." Otherwise Jorah would have never left.

"I do care about her," Tyrion protested. "But she doesn't let anyone come close."

"Did you even try?"

"I did. But… ever since… the Keep..."

"Is everyone here avoiding this topic?" Jorah asked.

"Nobody is keen on getting burnt like Varys."

"Varys wanted to replace her with Jon and tried to poison her."

"You forget that nobody knows what Varys' true motives were. They just know Daenerys had him executed. We never made an announcement why. We just called it treason and let people jump to their own conclusions."

Jorah sat down. His initial anger was disappearing quickly. Yelling at Tyrion was not going to get them anywhere. It had felt good to yell at someone though, but only for a moment. And if Jorah was honest, he was mostly angry at himself. Daenerys had convinced him she would be fine without him. He had been a fool to not see behind the façade.

Tyrion sat down in a chair next to Jorah. "The Queen doesn't talk much these days. I don't know what is going on in her mind."

"Does that really surprise you?" Jorah asked Tyrion, much calmer now.

"I guess not. I betrayed her. I blabbed Jon's secret to Varys. And Varys judged her by what she said."

"She shouldn't be on her own so much."

"Daenerys spends most of her time doing audiences. She has even increased the audience days per week. Initially, there were hardly any people coming, especially not common folk. But she wanted to know what the problems of the poorest were. Therefore, she promised that everyone who came would receive a warm meal. And it turned out that hunger is stronger than fear."

Jorah smiled. That was the Daenerys he knew, not taking no for an answer. "She needs that connection with people."

"Yes. But she is doing audiences for hours and hours, hardly ever taking a break. And it's not very pleasant to hear people complaining endlessly about how there is not enough food or warm clothes or medicine. It's gut-wrenching at times."

Jorah thought back to Meeren. He knew from experience how tedious and depressing audiences could be. "She needs people around her whom she can confide in. People she can trust."

"I tried to find a new handmaiden for her," Tyrion said. "I know that nobody can replace Missandei. I tried anyway. But Daenerys keeps sending them away. At first the girls are intimidated by her. Gradually, they relax and seem to be comfortable here. But then, suddenly and for no particular reason, she sends them away. When I ask her why, she says they were clumsy or incompetent. And when I ask them what happened, they are genuinely surprised, saying they liked working for her. They say she is polite to them and easy to work for."

Jorah was relieved to hear that Tyrion had at least made an effort to help Daenerys. But it didn't seem that he was getting anywhere with it.

"You've known her longer than anybody else," Tyrion said. "What is your advice?"

He sighed. "I don't know yet." Jorah stood up. If he stayed any longer, Daenerys would wonder where he was.

"You must be tired after the long ride. And it's quite late. I had a room prepared for you in the meantime. Your things have been brought there as well. It's just two doors down from hers. She is used to having you close by."

"Thank you."

"I really appreciate that you came."

Jorah nodded and made his way to the door.

"One more thing," Tyrion said.

Jorah stopped and turned around.

"Why did you leave?" Tyrion asked.

"Because my cousin died."

"To save your House. Yes, that's what Daenerys told us. But why did you _really_ leave?" Tyrion asked. "There has to be more to this. There was no warning. You left without saying goodbye to anyone. Not even Grey Worm knew anything about it."

It seemed that Daenerys hadn't told Tyrion the true reason why he had left, that it had been her idea, that she had essentially ordered him to leave. And if she had chosen not to tell her Hand, Jorah would not go against her wishes.

"Did the two of you have a fight?"

Jorah stayed silent.

"Did you ask for more after Jon left?" Tyrion asked carefully, well aware that he was crossing a line. But he had always been good at crossing lines.

"It's none of your business," Jorah said and turned towards the door again.

"It _is_ my business!" Tyrion countered. "Because you left her and-"

"I would have _never_ left if I had known what I know now!"

"So you didn't part on bad terms," Tyrion concluded.

"We didn't," Jorah admitted.

"But you won't tell me what happened."

"It doesn't matter," Jorah replied and left.

"Great. I'm glad we cleared this up," Tyrion said to the empty room with sarcasm. "And how am I supposed to go to sleep now?" He went over to the wine and poured himself a generous amount of the red liquid.

* * *

Jorah returned to Daenerys' quarters with some bread, cheese, cold meat and dried fruit. She had restarted the fire and lighted some candles. Discarding his cloak, tunic and boots, Jorah rejoined her on the bed. He held out the plate. "Here, eat something."

She eyed the food skeptically. "I'm not hungry."

"You need to keep up your strength. You can't rule six kingdoms on an empty stomach." He took her hand and placed a soft but lingering kiss on it. "Eat. Please." Jorah was prepared to blackmail her into eating, if he had to.

Hesitantly, Daenerys took a fruit from the plate and started nibbling on it. She didn't feel like eating. But she knew Jorah wouldn't let it go until she ate something.

Jorah leaned back against the pillows and ate some cheese and bread. "That's good cheese," he said. "We don't get cheese like that on Bear Island."

"I assume we won't for much longer either. The recent wars and winter are already taking their toll on food production. And it's only going to get worse."

Jorah nodded. "I've never seen snow so far south before."

Daenerys had finished the fruit and Jorah held out the plate to her. She picked a piece of bread. "What did Tyrion write to you?" she asked.

Jorah didn't answer right away.

"I know his letter to you is the reason you are here."

"Do you?"

"Who else would or could have done it?"

Jorah just chuckled. Indeed, who else would know and who else would have the guts to go behind the Queen's back in such a manner?

"What did he write?"

Jorah held out the plate to her again. "Eat some cheese and meat and I'll tell you."

Daenerys frowned. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"Yes," he confessed without shame.

She watched him for a while. But then she decided it would be easier to just go along. She didn't want to fight with him. It wasn't worth it. Besides, she didn't have the energy. She picked the largest piece of cheese from the plate, throwing him a defiant look. "Now tell me. What did Tyrion write?"

"Not much. Just that he was worried about you."

"What else?"

"Nothing else. It was the shortest message I ever got." That had indeed been all. Tyrion was a clever man. He knew he didn't need to write anything else. By now, Jorah had eaten all of the meat except for one piece. "The last one is yours."

"Worst deal I ever made," Daenerys mumbled, picking up the meat.

Jorah put away the plate. "I would have thrown in something else, if you had asked."

She raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Anything," he replied with a seductive smile.

"I have to keep that in mind."

Jorah watched her eat in silence. When she was finished, he said, "Tyrion told me that you keep sending away your maids. One after the other. Why?"

Daenerys looked at him for a long time, considering if she should tell him the truth. But she was tired of hiding, of pretending. She pretended with everyone else. She didn't want to pretend with Jorah. "I don't want to get too attached to them. Anyone close to me could get hurt, especially if my enemies think they mean anything to me." Like Irri and Ser Barristan. And Missandei. Tears collected in her eyes. "I still have nightmares where I see her fall, where I see Rhaegal fall, where I see Viserion fall, where I see you fall."

Jorah opened his arms and she gladly sought comfort in his embrace.

"I miss her so much. At times I think Grey Worm is blaming me for her death. He assures me he doesn't. But how could he not?"

"He is blaming himself for not having been able to protect her. And you are blaming yourself."

"Of course I am."

"Without you Missandei would still be a slave. She would have never known another life but that of a slave."

"Without me she would be on Naath with Grey Worm. I should have made her go. She had no place to be anywhere near a battle."

"She wouldn't have left without Grey Worm. And Grey Worm wouldn't have left you until the last battle was fought."

"I have offered to release him from my service. But he keeps refusing. He says it's the only purpose left for him in life." Daenerys turned in his arms so she could see his face. "Will you talk to him?"

"And what should I tell him?"

"That there is more to life than serving your Queen. That it's possible to find happiness with someone else."

Jorah remained silent.

"Are you not happy?"

"I am content. And grateful."

"But not happy?"

"My happiness will forever be tied to yours. And you don't strike me as happy at all."

She made herself comfortable against his chest again. "Tell me about your wife."

"Daenerys…" He was going to tell her anyway, but maybe now wasn't the best time. She seemed so fragile.

"Please, tell me. I want to know that I didn't send you away for anyone less than perfect."

Jorah took a deep breath. "Her name is Erena. She lost her husband in the battle between House Stark and House Bolton at Winterfell. She had a young son but he died a few years back from an illness."

"So much death."

"She is a strong woman. She has persevered. Just like someone else I know."

"Is she beautiful?"

"She is pretty," Jorah admitted. "She has dark hair. That was my only condition, no blond or silver hair."

"What did you tell her why you came here?"

"The truth."

"What?" Daenerys turned in his arms so she could see his face.

"She has known from the beginning. I told her before we married. I told her I loved someone else. I promised her a home and safety. And children, if it was in our future. She agreed. And she has become a dear friend. Lynesse came to Bear Island with wrong expectations. I was not going to do that to anyone else. Erena knew the only reason for my marriage was to keep House Mormont alive."

Daenerys was silent for a while, processing what Jorah had just told her. "Does she know whom you…?"

"Yes. I told her I would have never left your side, if Lyanna hadn't died. I couldn't promise her my love, just honesty." And Jorah didn't want to live a lie. "Do you disapprove of me telling her?"

"No." Daenerys lay back down against his chest. "I am just a bit surprised."

"Why? Did you think I would just leave and forget you?"

There it was again, that intensity, the blatant, unapologetic devotion. It caught her off-guard. Daenerys wasn't used to it anymore. And he was bolder than before he had left. Jorah had told her he would always love her. And despite the fact that she had sent him away, he had adhered to that promise. She should have known. She should have had more trust in him. But she didn't even trust herself at the moment. "I… I…"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It was a rhetorical question." He placed a soft kiss on her hair.

"No, it wasn't."

"Still, you don't have to answer."

"I hoped… I wished… that you wouldn't. But I wanted you to live your life."

"And now?" he asked cautiously.

Daenerys tightened her hold around his body. "Don't ask me that," she whispered. "At least not right now." 


End file.
